Nicholas Raven and the Wizards' Web (The Complete Epic Fantasy)

by Thomas J. Prestopnik

  “I wouldn’t stick my nose up at the opportunity,” he said, folding his arms and leaning back in the wagon seat. “But you already know that.”

  “Then let me do my job and those things will come your way in time,” he promised. “And who knows, your rise in status just might catch the eye of some of the fine ladies in Kanesbury, say, for instance, Miss Katherine Durant.”

  “Who said anything about–?”

  Farnsworth grinned. “You didn’t have to say anything, Dooley. It’s obvious you have feelings for her. I stop by the Iron Kettle, too. I hear about things you’ve said in your inebriated states.”

  “Perhaps it had crossed my mind,” he said with a sigh, “though I don’t think she’d ever want to be seen with the likes of me. But in time, you never know.”

  “That’s the spirit. And that’s why I encourage patience. So if we fully cooperate and don’t panic, the rewards will eventually come to us. I want control of Kanesbury, and in your dreams, you see yourself with someone like Katherine,” he said. “So don’t do anything to foul up the possibility of such dreams becoming reality.”

  Dooley nodded, letting the words sink in. Success seemed obtainable whenever Farnsworth stated matters so finely. But their deeds of late rested on his shoulders like a load of rocks he could never set down, keeping him awake at night. He feared that he might let slip a few words in public that would reveal everything, landing them either in the lockup or at the hands of an angry mob. He sometimes wished he had never stolen that key when he was ten, yearning simply for the warmth and carefree spirit of that sunny day long ago as the horse trotted past the seemingly endless tract of swampland.

  He again indicated the body in back of the cart, eager to change the subject. “About the sleeping spell that strange man had cast on him. How long will it last?”

  Farnsworth shrugged. “Indefinitely, I suppose. Arileez is his name, by the way, according to the crow. And he’s more of a wizard than a regular man. A spooky sort, don’t you agree? I’m just glad Arileez suggested a sleeping spell. It makes this kidnapping so much easier than the last one.”

  Dooley wrinkled his brow. “So why didn’t we bring Arileez along to put Adelaide under a spell, too? It’d save us from hauling out food supplies to her every six days.”

  Farnsworth glared at him through the gloom. “He doesn’t know about Adelaide! I don’t want him to know. And I don’t want word of her getting back to Caldurian either. She is our mistake, Dooley. The wizard was upset enough when we lost the key, so why risk another example of incompetence?”

  “All right! I won’t mention it again,” he fumed. “But why is Arileez in Kanesbury in the first place?”

  Farnsworth shook his head, imagining himself pushing Dooley off the cart for posing yet another one of his inane questions. “Are you blind? Don’t you know what that being is capable of?”

  “I know that!” he snapped. “Stop treating me like a fool. I just want to know the reason Arileez is here. How will things unfold?”

  “Watch very closely as the days go by. That’s all I can say. Caldurian has a plan laid out that will benefit him and us. Just let it play out,” he warned. “The less you know right now, the better.”

  “As usual!”

  “I don’t make the rules, Dooley, but I have to follow them.” Farnsworth snapped the reins as they were nearing their destination. “But there is something you should know. When Gavin contacted me a few days ago and said Arileez was on his way, the crow also told me of some news regarding Morrenwood. King Justin is convening a war council in fourteen days.”

  Dooley picked at his teeth with a jagged fingernail. “That’s interesting, I guess. But why should I care?”

  “Because if you correctly time your flour deliveries to the capital for Ned Adams, maybe you can find a way to make yourself an uninvited guest at the council.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. And you knew this was a possibility all along.” Farnsworth explained that he had casually spoken to Ned on the street two days after Gavin informed him of the upcoming war council in Morrenwood. “I asked Ned how your training for Nicholas’ job was progressing. He happily told me about the success of your recent deliveries to Bridgewater County and how you were learning the bookkeeping quicker than he had hoped. He added that you would be leaving for Morrenwood soon to deliver final shipments for the King’s stores.”

  “And I’m to act as a spy?” Dooley asked, not happy with the prospect.

  “I promised Caldurian as much on the night he showed up to collect the key,” he said. “We can’t back out now, especially after going through all that trouble to frame Nicholas. Imagine the information we could glean from that meeting. Caldurian would find it more valuable than that old key, I’d wager. So you see…”

  Dooley spit on the road again. “Yeah, I see. It’s up to me, as usual. Like I know anything about being a spy!”

  “Did you know anything about kidnapping before Adelaide stumbled upon us in Nicholas’ shed? And apparently you already knew how to be a thief at age ten when you swiped the key from that eagle.” Farnsworth was pleased with Dooley’s silent response, not in the mood to argue further. “Good then. So you understand,” he said, gently pulling on the reins as they neared their turnoff.

  When Farnsworth noted a large rock half buried just off the right side of the road, he slowed the horse to a gentle gait and pulled off to the grassy side a few moments later. He directed the steed toward the nearby woods bordering one section of the swamp beyond. They passed under the trees along a vague path that paralleled the main road for a short distance before turning right deeper into the woods, heading closer to the swamp. The intermittent calls of frogs and crickets grew louder and sharper as the horse cautiously drew its load farther into the trees, guided only by the light of the two oil lamps and the Bear Moon drifting above. A few dreary minutes later, he brought the horse to a halt at the end of the path only a few yards from the water’s edge. There was only enough room for the horse and cart to turn around for the return journey.

  “Here we are again,” Dooley muttered before hopping off the cart, feeling suffocated by the surroundings. Numerous trees, thin and arthritic, grew out of the swampy waters like fingers groping at the partially hidden sky in search of escape. Strings of watery, leafy vines had wrapped themselves around their trucks over the years and hung from the branches like tangles of rope or a brood of lifeless snakes. Weeds grew in thick bunches, pungently scenting the cold air.

  “I’ll get the boats out of hiding,” Farnsworth said, disappearing into the trees beyond with one of the oil lamps he had unfastened from the cart.

  A few minutes later, a dot of light appeared on the water. Farnsworth drifted along the edge of the swamp in a small wooden boat to where Dooley stood, deftly paddling with an oar. The oil lamp was set near the bow. A second boat followed, attached to the first with a rope. When the boat neared, Dooley grabbed a rope that Farnsworth flung to him and guided it to shore. Farnsworth stepped out and dragged the second boat onto dry land beside the first.

  “Let’s load up,” he said, signaling for Dooley to follow him to the cart. “We’ll set him in one of the boats and all the firewood and supplies in the other.”

  Dooley nodded, wavering on the verge of another complaint but knowing it wouldn’t do him any good. He and Farnsworth each grabbed two of the sacks and set them in one of the boats, swiftly repeating the process until one vessel was fully loaded with the firewood and food supplies. Then Dooley climbed onto the cart and waited for Farnsworth to walk around to the back. The heaviest burden was yet to follow.

  He glanced at Farnsworth over the pile of blankets and tossed them aside, revealing a body in the night still sleeping soundly on the wooden surface. He sighed, grateful he couldn’t discern the man’s features in the darkness.

  “Ready, Zachary?” he asked mechanically.

  Farnsworth nodded and grabbed the man from beneath the arms while Dooley lifted the
legs, carefully carrying him off the cart and depositing the body into the empty boat. Dooley retrieved the blankets from the cart and threw them on top of the man, shielding him from view. He sighed with relief when the first part of their task was complete and grabbed the other oil lamp.

  Moments later, the pair of boats drifted slowly across the swamp toward a small island hidden among the vegetation, the glow of the lamps casting a pale light upon the murky surface of the water. Dooley sat in the boat with the food supplies, surveying the patch of an island just ahead as he repeatedly dipped his oar in the water from side to side. He had only been here one other time, the night he and Farnsworth swiftly and secretly transported a bound and gagged Adelaide Cooper out of Kanesbury in the inky darkness. He felt a knot in his stomach then, wondering if his alliance with Farnsworth and been for the best. But haunting him even more was the image of Arthur Weeks, his dead vacant gaze staring up into nothingness, an image he couldn’t yet shake from his mind. Visions of wealth and prestige that had entertained him so often in the past now grew dim as he floated silently upon the water toward the abandoned robbers’ hideout that Farnsworth had procured through some of his unsavory connections. But in spite of his guilt and queasy feelings, Dooley knew that it was too late to turn back.

  As his boat touched shore, he noticed a faint yellow light emanating through the cracks in the window shutters of a small wooden shack-of-a-house before him. It had been built on a series of low, thick stilts to protect it during heavy rains. The shutters had been nailed closed with a few wood slats on the outside. Curls of smoke rose above the roof, somersaulting in the cold, damp air. Dooley pulled his craft ashore, grabbed the oil lamp and walked over to a spot several yards to the right where Farnsworth had landed. A tiny, windowless shed built of stone and wood lay hidden close by in the weeds and shadows. As Farnsworth pulled his boat in, Dooley pushed open the warped door of the shed, letting utter darkness escape from within.

  “Lay those inside,” Farnsworth said, tossing a few of the blankets to Dooley who quickly complied with the order.

  He hung his lamp on a large, rusty nail sticking out of a wood beam and spread the blankets in one corner of the shed before stepping outside to help Farnsworth lug the body out of the boat. They carried it inside under the filtered moonlight and set it on the blankets, covering it moments later with the remaining blankets that had been left in the boat. The man lying asleep under Arileez’ spell breathed slowly but steadily, oblivious to the whirl of events about to spin out of control in his village just a few miles to the west. Dooley and Zachary exited the shed and closed the door, satisfied that at least one of their reluctant charges wouldn’t give them any trouble.

  “Now we pay her a visit,” Farnsworth said as they walked to the other boat. He and Dooley each grabbed two sacks of food and walked up a flight of ten rickety wooden stairs to the front door secured with a large iron padlock. He produced a key and removed the lock, pushing the door open with a muddy boot.

  They stepped into the room, warm with the heat from a small stone fireplace. A few candles on a table provided the only other light. As soon as Dooley closed the door, a small figure sprang at him from behind it, clinging to the back of his shoulders and pushing him away from the front entrance.

  “Get her off me!” he shouted, dropping the food sacks and swatting his hands as if trying to chase away a wasp.

  “Don’t think you can keep me locked in here another moment, Dooley Kramer!” Adelaide hung on and squeezed his bony frame as if trying to force every bit of air out of his lungs. “You’ll be thrown into Constable Brindle’s lockup before this is over.”

  “And you’ll be tied up in a chair if you ever do that again!” Farnsworth barked. He grabbed Adelaide from behind and lifted her small frame through the air, setting her on a wooden chair near the fire. He glared at her like a wolf that had cornered its prey.

  Adelaide stared back with defiant steel blue eyes. “You don’t frighten me, Zachary, nor does your sorry excuse for a helper.”

  “Oh, really? We’re taking the time to bring you food and firewood, and this is how you react? Dooley even bought you a cake of that fine soap you wanted, Adelaide.” He pointed a finger at her as he held his breath for a moment, slowly releasing it through clenched teeth. “But we could just as easily forget to come here one of these days, and then where would you be?”

  “You can’t do that!” she said, her voice a bit softer and her fiery demeanor quickly growing cold. Adelaide tried not to tremble, but Farnsworth’s not-so-subtle threat made her reconsider her tactics. “I would go hungry.”

  “Then don’t cause us any more grief,” he muttered. He grunted and stood guard near the door. “Dooley is going to bring up the rest of the supplies while I stand here and make sure you behave. Now is there anything else you’d like to say?”

  After Dooley left, Adelaide sat back and adjusted a shawl draped over her thin shoulders, her gray hair nearly matching the color of her dress. “How long are you planning to keep me locked up in this dump?”

  “As I said before, I’m not sure. But it’s not really an awful place to spend some time in, is it? I paid good money to obtain these quarters.”

  Farnsworth looked about the small room containing the single table, two chairs, bare walls, a straw broom and a dwindling stack of firewood that Dooley had yet to replenish. An adjoining room to the side had a feather mattress tossed on the floor, and beyond that was a tiny privy. Off the main room to the back was a modest kitchen with a single counter and a few decrepit shelves above. In each of the opposite corners stood a water barrel, both filled to capacity from funneled holes in the roof.

  “I have a household to take care of, Zachary. You have to let me go soon!” she begged. “Besides, people are looking for me. They must be looking for me. You can’t keep me her forever.”

  “Well, they’re not looking for you here, so you might as well put any notion of being rescued out of your mind,” he said. “You’ll leave when we say you can leave.”

  Adelaide’s face puckered up with fear and hatred for the man, wondering why he would do such a thing to her. She needed more answers. “Why were you and Dooley in Nicholas Raven’s shed that night?” she quickly followed up, though not expecting an answer as she had asked that question of Farnsworth several times before. He simply shook his head in reply. “Fine. Don’t tell me,” she continued just as Dooley walked back into the house with two more sacks of vegetables. “Tell me this instead. Whose body did you two just carry onto the island?”

  Farnsworth hesitated as Dooley stopped cold, looking up at him for guidance. “Keep unloading the boat, Dooley!” he snapped, before glancing at Adelaide with a feigned casualness. “What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t deny it. I spied on you through one of the cracks in the shutters. I saw you carry a body out of a boat and into the shed. Who is it?” she demanded. “Is it dead?”

  Farnsworth raked a hand through his long locks and grinned, shaking his head as if he were responding to a child’s inquiry. But he felt his heart pound a little bit harder when Adelaide broached the subject, silently cursing the woman for her annoying curiosity.

  “There is no dead body inside that shed. I give you my word.”

  “Your word isn’t worth a bucket of cow cud,” she muttered, straightening out the wrinkles in her dress. “So who is it?” she asked again as Dooley lumbered back inside with an armful of firewood. “What lucky person gets to live in the fancy quarters?”

  Dooley couldn’t prevent himself from chuckling as he piled the wood near the fireplace. “The fancy quarters! Just be thankful you got it as good as you do, Adelaide. If that wizard Caldurian were looking after you, why, you might be living at the bottom of this swamp, if you get my meaning.”

  “Dooley!” Farnsworth cried as he stared down his accomplice with fire in his eyes. “Mouth closed! Just get the rest of the wood.”

  “Sorry, I…”

  “Caldurian? I remember
when that madman nearly destroyed our village twenty years ago,” Adelaide said, having overheard the wizard’s name and snippets of other details about Nicholas Raven and a magic key while imprisoned in Farnsworth’s cellar. But she never let on out of concern for her own safety, feigning ignorance. “What does Caldurian have to do with all of this?”

  “Nothing! Don’t listen to that fool,” he snapped as Dooley scurried outside for the remaining firewood. “Now enough questions, Adelaide. This conversation is over!” He stepped closer to the door, impatiently waiting for Dooley to complete his task.

  “But, Zachary, I want to know–”

  “No!” He raised a finger, silencing her. After Dooley finished unloading the boat a few minutes later, the two men turned to depart. Adelaide stood, futilely pleading with them one more time.

  “Please let me go.”

  “We’re leaving,” Farnsworth softly said, ushering Dooley out the door.

  Adelaide nervously fidgeted with her hair. “When will you return?”

  “We’ll be back here when we’re back. You’re set for several days,” he said, stepping out. But before he closed the door completely, he looked inside, cautioning Adelaide with a cold stare as he spoke. “Remember, you’ll only endanger yourself if you try to flee. There are rats and water snakes everywhere, and I wouldn’t even want to think about swimming across this swamp.” Adelaide flinched at the notion. “And I just posted a handful of men to monitor the roads along the swamplands day and night to make sure nobody gets in or out,” he lied, noting the subtle shade of defeat in Adelaide’s eyes. “So consider yourself warned, woman.”

  He pulled the door shut, leaving Adelaide staring at the blank walls with a heavy heart. As she heard the iron padlock being secured, she sat down in the chair again, gazing blankly at the fire, for the moment not knowing what to do or think or feel.

  Dooley and Farnsworth hurriedly rowed the boats across the water back to the hiding place, eager to escape the confines of the swamp. With oil lamps in hand, they hiked the short distance through the trees to where their horse and cart waited.