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

by Thomas J. Prestopnik

  “I hate doing this!” Dooley muttered as he reaffixed the two lamps to the sides of the cart. “Why did she have to find us in Nicholas’ shed that night?”

  “Bad luck,” Farnsworth said, climbing into his seat.

  “That’s all we seem to have,” he replied, hopping aboard moments later. “There’s got to be a better way. What if she does escape? What if we’re followed or caught? Or what if–”

  “Dooley!” Farnsworth glared at him, whispering bitterly. “Enough. I need to think.”

  “Then think fast. I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

  “I don’t like it either,” he replied as he snapped the reins and turned the cart around, exiting along the narrow path. “But I wouldn’t want to do anything drastic before we accomplished our goal or before I obtain any kind of power.” He exhaled a ghostly breath and glanced at Dooley. “Let’s be patient until then. Perhaps I can arrange a more permanent solution to our troubles afterward.”

  “Oh? Like what?”

  “Leave the details to me, Dooley. You’d only blurt them out, just like you told Adelaide about the wizard.”

  “Sorry about that, Zachary. I wasn’t thinking,” he said, bowing his head and staring at his feet with remorse.

  “Just one more sorry to add to your list, eh?”

  “Nothing should come of it, but I’ll watch my tongue next time,” he replied apologetically. “But like you said, if you can arrange a more permanent solution to our swamp problem, then what I accidentally said about the wizard won’t really matter.”

  Farnsworth nodded. “Right you are, Dooley. Right you are. Just give me time to ponder the situation and I’ll come up with a perfect plan to solve all of our irksome little troubles,” he said, looking askance at Dooley Kramer as they approached the main dirt road. “All of them.”

  CHAPTER 25

  A Change in Leadership

  Katherine Durant approached the Water Barrel Inn as crisp autumn twilight gently wrapped itself around the trees and houses of Kanesbury. She kept warm, buried beneath the folds of her cloak. Thin, feathery streaks of purple and orange faded near the horizon, giving way to a field of white stars that dotted vast charcoal skies. The windows of the inn blazed with a friendly yellow glow, the patrons inside moving back and forth in boisterous delight among mugs of ale and below clouds of pipe smoke lazily congregating near the rafters. The murmur of voices rose in volume when she opened the front door and stepped inside. She removed her hood, revealing waves of long brown hair that matched the color of her eyes.

  The warmth of a blazing fire and the scent of fresh pine clippings greeted her as she gazed about the large room filled to half its capacity. A woman carrying a tray of roasted pheasant swiftly passed by, heading to a table of hungry patrons. Katherine noted a tall man sitting alone near the fireplace nursing a drink, his face grim and pensive. She waded through the crowd, taking a seat next to the gentleman.

  “I heard that you might be here,” Katherine said with a calming smile, noting the red flames reflected in the man’s eyes. “How are you tonight, Maynard?”

  Maynard Kurtz took a sip of his ale, nodding to greet her. “Almost the same as I was last night,” he said with a thin smile. He stretched out his legs and leaned back in his chair, his distinctive silvery-black hair falling over his shoulders. He sighed, staring at the mug cradled in his hands. “Just thinking about Nicholas and Adelaide and wondering where they are at the moment.” He glanced at Katherine. “I guess I don’t think of much else lately.”

  Katherine attempted another smile as she looked into the man’s eyes, noting a faraway expression. The strain from the disappearance of his two closest companions had surely taken its toll upon him. She could only imagine his heartbreak, wishing she could tell him that Nicholas was innocent, but vowing to keep the promise she had made to him in the ice cellar despite that it weighed upon her day and night. And Adelaide’s strange disappearance seemed to produce in him a grief nearly equal to that caused by the death of his wife, Tessa. She couldn’t bear seeing Maynard dwell in such anguish and hoped her visit would cheer him.

  “Pardon my manners, but may I offer you a drink, Katherine? Perhaps some hot cider or a bit of wine on a cold night?”

  “Nothing, Maynard, but thank you. Sitting here by the warm fire is soothing enough. I thought I might keep you company.”

  “I appreciate that,” he said, flashing a grin. “Yet I shouldn’t wallow in my dark mood as if I’m the only one affected by these unfortunate disappearances. You miss Nicholas and Adelaide, too.”

  “I do miss them. Nicholas had invited me to the Harvest Festival dance, but that was not meant to be, I suppose. I wonder where he is at this moment, too. Maybe he found his way to Morrenwood to join the King’s Guard after all.”

  “It’s possible, yet I feel he’s safe. It’s Adelaide that I worry about most,” he replied. “Constable Brindle and his men have searched to no avail. I fear the worst.”

  “Have hope,” she said. “I don’t deny that something horrible may have befallen her, but I just can’t bring myself to fully imagine it yet. Perhaps that sounds foolish or childish, Maynard, but my heart won’t give up quite as easily as my mind is apt to at times.”

  “I understand perfectly, Katherine. Hang on to every bit of hope until the last possible moment. And even beyond that, too.” He took a slow sip of his drink. “We’ll just have to weather this storm as best we can and prepare for the next one.”

  “I suppose,” she replied, staring at the snapping flames for a moment before the weight of Maynard’s words hit her. “Prepare for the next one? What do you mean? You sound as if something terrible is headed our way.”

  He glanced at the young girl, noting a hint of fearful concern in her eyes. “Well, Katherine, you’re going to find out soon enough, so I might as well tell you now.”

  “Tell me what, Maynard?”

  He drained his ale before sitting up straight in the chair. “There is news about Mayor Nibbs that will most certainly be floating around the village before the night is out.”

  “Uncle Otto? What about him?” she asked, her heart aflutter.

  “The village council is gathering later this evening to discuss some recent events concerning your uncle, events which have been kept secret by design.”

  “What secret events, Maynard? Tell me what you know,” she pleaded.

  He gently patted her hand. “I will,” he whispered, cautioning her to lower her voice so as not to attract attention. Though the talk and occasional bouts of laughter throughout the inn afforded them privacy from curious ears, Maynard nonetheless took Katherine by the hand and led her to a small table tucked in a corner of the room. They sat opposite each other as a thin candle in a metal holder provided a flicker of illumination.

  “Now what of this meeting concerning my uncle?” she asked. “Will he be there? Does he even know of it?”

  Maynard shook his head. “No, Otto will not be in attendance because…” He rubbed a calloused hand over his chin, trying to find the right words. “Since you and your mother are his closest relatives, I think you should know before any others as long as you’re here. You can inform Sophia when you go home.” He contemplated the words he was about to utter to the young girl. “Your uncle received an unusual visitor at his home last night. This morning he left Kanesbury for an urgent meeting to follow up on that strange visit.”

  Katherine locked gazes with him, attempting to keep her impatience in check. “Who did he meet with?”

  “Do you recall any stories from childhood regarding the Enâri invasion of Kanesbury twenty years ago?”

  “Of course. That happened three years before I was born. Some of the older children would make up wild yarns about those strange creatures to scare us, saying that some had awakened from their sleep in the Spirit Caves and were hiding out in the woods waiting to attack us in our sleep.” Katherine laughed. “I was petrified of such tales when I was four or five, though later in l
ife I found the bizarre affair a little hard to believe. Yet, the Spirit Caves do exist and that dilapidated watch house still stands across the road from the caves, so I suppose it must have been true to an extent.”

  “Oh, the events were true,” he said, drumming his fingers upon the table. “Kanesbury endured a terrible ordeal for a time because of them.”

  “I recall stories my mother and father had told me years ago. But what do the Enâri have to do with Uncle Otto now?” she asked. “And who was this mysterious visitor you spoke of, Maynard? Who visited my uncle last night?”

  “There is no easy way to break the news, so I’ll just say it. The visitor was one of the Enâri creatures,” he replied, his voice sounding distant in the web of shadows. “They’ve awakened, I’m sorry to say, and once again their attention is focused on our little village.”

  Katherine said nothing for a moment, trying to absorb his words. “How can that be? Weren’t they under a sleeping spell?”

  “They were. But whether the spell wore off or was reversed by a more powerful one, I cannot guess. Now the Enâri walk again, or so your uncle has informed us.”

  Katherine shook her head in disbelief, her face pained with concern for her uncle and the safety of the village. Maynard took her hand in his, and despite the warmth of the room, she noted that it felt cold to her touch.

  “Tell me exactly what happened, Maynard. I need to know.”

  He nodded, leaning back in his chair. “All right. It began late last night before Otto had contacted me and the other four members of the village council, calling an emergency meeting at once and in secret. He first came to my house alone, knocking on my door as if a pack of wolves were after him. The fright in his eyes disturbed me to my core. ‘Maynard, you must come to the village hall at once!’ Otto said to me, his coat unbuttoned and his hair a frazzled mess. I almost didn’t believe that it was your uncle upon my doorstep.”

  Katherine found it difficult to believe as well since her uncle was always properly groomed and attired when attending to his public duties as a sign of respect for the office he so much revered. She couldn’t imagine him leaving the house on official business with his thinning, stringy hair neither combed nor tied up in back with a black band, or with his coat or vest hanging over his slightly paunchy midsection either unbuttoned or in any way in disarray. Aunt Luella, his deceased wife, had always fussed about Otto’s public appearance, encouraging him to show the highest regard for his office. As a tribute to her memory, Otto continued to attend to his mayoral obligations in suitable fashion. Katherine suspected that her uncle must have been rattled beyond description to make such a spur-of-the-moment visit to Maynard’s farmhouse in the middle of the night.

  “What happened at the meeting, Maynard? Did everyone attend?”

  “Yes. Len Harold arrived just as I did, but he didn’t know what was bothering Otto either. Finally, after the other three council members showed up and Otto shortly thereafter, we all sat down and got to the nub of the matter–your uncle’s visit from one of the Enâri creatures.”

  Katherine leaned forward, enthralled by Maynard’s bizarre narrative. “What did it say to my uncle? Was he threatened or harmed or…” She could only imagine the worst at this point, her heart pounding rapidly.

  “No, Otto wasn’t harmed, but he was given a warning. The creature wanted Otto to return a small metal box that the wizard Frist had created twenty years ago which held a grave threat to the Enâri race,” he explained, noting the look of confusion on Katherine’s face. “I don’t have time to go into the details of all the history, but the point is that Otto claimed he didn’t keep the Spirit Box in Kanesbury anymore. He said he had returned it to King Justin in Morrenwood years ago for safekeeping.”

  “Did the creature believe him?”

  “No, and the hooligan threatened to flood our village with a destructive wave of Enâri five hundred strong to avenge their imprisonment in the caves.”

  “This can’t be happening,” she whispered, glancing across the room at the men and women who were enjoying food and drinks and a pleasant evening, blissfully unaware of the ruin that might befall them without warning. “What else did my uncle tell you?”

  “He bought us some time, Katherine. Your brave uncle bought the village of Kanesbury some time.”

  “How?”

  “At our secret meeting last night, Otto told us that he had struck a deal with the Enâr who had visited him.”

  Katherine shrugged. “What kind of a deal?”

  “Your uncle appeared distraught, wiping the sweat off his brow despite the coolness of the night. ‘I convinced that disheveled beast to allow me to meet with all of the Enâri,’ your uncle said to us. ‘They are hiding out on an abandoned farm on Barringer’s Landing, and I plan to confront them there. I’ll do anything to keep that horde from setting foot inside the borders of Kanesbury as they had done twenty years ago.’”

  “But what good will that do?” she asked, fearing for Otto’s life. “How does he expect to defeat such a mob single-handedly?”

  “That’s exactly what we said, Katherine, but your uncle was convinced that he could buy us a little time to prepare for the worst. ‘I will try to convince the Enâri that I will travel to Morrenwood and retrieve the item they covet so dearly. If they allow me to do so, we can bolster our defenses and seek reinforcements from King Justin should an invasion befall us.’ A bold plan it was that your uncle proposed, Katherine. And bolder still was the manner in which he intended to carry it out.”

  “Tell me what he did,” she anxiously replied, though a part of her had no desire to hear the answer, fearing the worst.

  Maynard leaned across the table. “He rashly insisted on meeting with the Enâri alone. And he did just that, leaving this morning on horseback at the crack of dawn. I’m waiting right now for the bell in the village hall to be rung to call another council meeting to discuss our next step.” Maynard’s words of foreboding rose to the rafters, fading into the ghostly swirls of pipe smoke. “You see, Katherine…”

  “Yes?”

  He sadly shook his head. “As of sundown, Otto had not yet returned. Though I loathe saying it, I can’t help but fear the worst.”

  “Then why did you let him go?” she asked, her chin quivering. “Or you should at least have sent others with him. I knew it was a foolish plan as soon as you spoke of it.”

  “I thought so, too, as did all of the council members. But Otto insisted that he do this alone, and he is the mayor, after all.” Maynard patted her hand. “We did take one precaution, though I fear we acted too late.”

  “What, Maynard? Anything to give me a morsel of hope.”

  “The five of us kept Otto’s visit to Barringer’s Landing a secret throughout the morning, waiting for his return. But when the sun climbed past the noon position, we told Constable Brindle what had happened and asked him to track down our mayor with one of his deputies.” He saw that his words only made Katherine more distressed. She buried her face in her hands. “We’re hoping for Clay’s return shortly, and then we’ll commence with our next meeting.”

  “I shall be there,” she insisted, gently pounding a fist onto the table. “I’m sure a good many people will want to know what’s going on.”

  “Oh, this will be a public meeting. I can promise you that.” Maynard grimly laughed. “I don’t think we can keep these strange doings a secret anymore, my dear girl.”

  “I should think not, especially after–”

  Suddenly the clear peal of a bell could be heard above the clutter of voices and the snapping flames in the fireplace. Two additional sobering clangs followed. Katherine and Maynard looked at each other, both sensing that a momentous change was about to overwhelm Kanesbury. Several people at the other tables excitedly wondered aloud why the village bell had been rung.

  “The meeting is called,” Maynard calmly stated. “Constable Brindle is back.”

  “But is my uncle with him?” Katherine asked, raising a p
air of sad eyes.

  He stood and offered a courteous hand to Katherine as the candle flame wildly flickered. “Let’s go and find out. The news will be intriguing no matter what the constable has to report.”

  Katherine nodded pessimistically as she accompanied Maynard through the curious crowd and out of the Water Barrel Inn.

  They hurried up the nearest lane and soon arrived at the village hall, a modest two-story building of stone and wood. The windows glowed yellow as someone had already lit the oil lamps affixed to the walls inside. A large wooden belfry, painted lemon yellow with white trim, was built on the rooftop, the bell housed within now silent. A crowd had gathered in the dirt road near the front doors, many people carrying oil lamps or holding aloft blazing torches, all wondering whether a meeting of the council had been called or if a prankster had been up to no good. But when four council members were spotted huddled under the bony branches of a nearby maple tree, many suspected that something was afoot.

  “And here comes Maynard Kurtz,” a voice in the crowd noted when the head of the village council was spotted with Katherine Durant walking toward the building. Maynard whispered a few reassuring words to Katherine before leaving her to join the others.

  But what most caught everyone’s attention and ignited a wildfire of speculation was seeing Constable Brindle standing by his horse in front of the village lockup next door to the left, quietly talking with one of his deputies. Another horse stood close by munching on some grass, a light brown steed named Chicanery with a few distinctive white spots between its eyes and near the nose. Every local knew that that steed belonged to Otto Nibbs, but no one saw any sign of their mayor and wondered why Chicanery was standing idly by. When Katherine observed the horse without its rider, her heart froze.

  “What’s going on?” a voice spoke to her from behind. “Why is the council gathering tonight?”