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

by Thomas J. Prestopnik

  As the bucket brigade frantically kept to its task, the warnings from Otto Nibbs were foremost on people’s minds. The trouble had finally begun, just as he predicted, but what else was to follow? Everyone laboring along the river wondered, searching for answers in the dragon-like flames, the delicate touch of moonlight and the cold, gray breath of approaching dawn.

  CHAPTER 42

  The Arrival

  The charred remains of the gristmill produced an ethereal haze above the treetops late the following morning. Cold rays of sunlight stabbed the smoldering mass that lay like the carcass of a huge, mythical beast struck down by a torrent of fiery arrows. A gawking crowd had thinned since sunrise, though onlookers continually wandered by to examine the spectacular damage. Ned Adams stood alone beneath an oak tree, his coat unbuttoned, his arms folded, contemplating the ruin and the task of rebuilding. His wife was talking with several ladies nearby, but he had spoken to enough people already and wanted a few moments alone. But when he noticed Dooley Kramer lingering near the river’s edge, he signaled for him to approach. Dooley raced over at once.

  “I was hoping we could talk, Mr. Adams, but I didn’t want to bother you,” Dooley said, his face as pale as the wet ash.

  “It’s never a bother when I hear from one of my employees,” he replied. “I suspect we’ll be having several conversations, Dooley. I’d like your opinion about rebuilding this place, after all. I want to make it better!”

  “That’s a good attitude, sir.” Dooley nodded as a thin breeze brushed through his dirty blond hair. He felt that Ned was taking this financial setback rather well, even better than himself. He felt sick to his stomach upon witnessing the destruction of his livelihood. He knew that Caldurian had some distasteful events planned for Kanesbury as part of his revenge, but he never expected anything like this. Had he been warned, he would have vigorously objected. Now he feared what else the wizard had in mind. How were he and Farnsworth supposed to collect their due if there was nothing left of the village after Caldurian departed?

  “Rest assured, Dooley, that I plan to look after you and the other employees until this place is up and running again,” Ned promised. “Some of the local farmers have offered to hire a few of you part-time after we get this mess cleaned up, but I can certainly use you all to help rebuild come springtime.”

  “Count me in!”

  “I will. We’ll meet later so we can start getting our accounts in order.” Ned shook his head, nearly overwhelmed. “All our books have been destroyed along with everything else. It’ll be like starting a brand new business.” He managed a smile. “I’ll bet you didn’t expect to be this busy over the winter, did you?”

  “No,” Dooley honestly said, wondering if his association with Farnsworth and Caldurian was worth such headaches. He promised Ned to be at his disposal when needed and then hurried to the banking house after their conversation, wanting desperately to speak to Zachary Farnsworth.

  “How many times have I told you not to bother me here?”

  Zachary Farnsworth smoothed out the wrinkles on his red vest as he stood up behind his office desk at the banking house he managed for Horace Ulm. He opened the door and glanced into the main room. One man working behind the front counter attended to a customer while two other employees sat at their tables dutifully scribbling into the account books. A stream of bright, dusty sunlight shot through one of the tiny windows. Farnsworth quietly closed the door and returned to his desk.

  “I’m sorry, but I needed to talk to you before tonight,” Dooley said, seated in a wooden chair. “The place where I worked just burned to the ground, in case you haven’t noticed!”

  “How could I not?” Farnsworth bitterly quipped. “Your clothes reek of smoke. And keep the voice down.”

  “Fine,” he whispered irritably. “But did you know about the fire beforehand? Did you know that that was part of Caldurian’s plan?”

  “Of course not! I’d have said something otherwise. Do you think the wizard gives me every detail about what he intends to do?”

  “We should have asked for more information before we agreed to his terms.”

  Farnsworth leaned forward, steadying his voice. “Look, Dooley, let’s not be naïve and think that Kanesbury is going to be unscathed before this is all over. But Caldurian promised us control of the village when he’s through, and that’s what matters. So if we have to endure a few bumps along the way, we do. The gristmill fire was out of line, but just be thankful the wizard is on our side,” he emphasized with a jab of his finger in the air. “He could have plotted his revenge on Otto Nibbs without our help, and who knows what condition this village would have been in afterward in that case.”

  Dooley grimaced. That was not the answer he wanted to hear, but he knew that Farnsworth was correct. What could either of them do against Caldurian or Arileez? They both had the power and were directing the theatrics, so all he and Farnsworth could do was watch and wait for their time to arrive. He shuddered, unable to determine which of the two wizards frightened him the most.

  “If you learn anything new, let me know,” Dooley said. “Chances are that I’ll be busy working with Ned Adams on his customers’ accounts.”

  “You do that,” Farnsworth replied. “It’ll keep you out of trouble. In the meantime, stay away from here. You’re lucky that Horace isn’t around today. The last thing we need is that chatterbox poking his nose into our business. Now get out of my office, Dooley, and don’t come back!”

  The gristmill fire was the main topic of conversation that day, with opinions as strong as the bittersweet scent of smoke lingering above the rooftops. The wanton destruction of Ned’s property tore at the heart of every citizen. Constable Brindle and his men thoroughly investigated the matter, but after Otto’s cryptic warnings and the previous night’s damage to the Water Barrel Inn, most people were certain that the fire had been no accident. Many fretfully speculated about what might happen next as talk once again veered to enlisting help from other villages. And though Maynard Kurtz had deemed such a step unnecessary, many began to have second thoughts.

  Constable Brindle, in the meantime, organized a series of nighttime patrols on both foot and horseback to sweep the village from sunset until sunrise beginning that very night. Volunteers eagerly signed up for three-hour shifts, determined to protect their homes and loved ones. An announcement was also made that the doors to the village hall would remain unlocked so that if some nefarious activity was discovered, anyone could access the belfry to sound the alarm.

  Yet amid all the turmoil, feelings of resentment and mistrust toward Otto Nibbs grew quietly in the hearts and minds of most citizens. Despite his last-minute warning of impending trouble, Otto had forfeited any respect or admiration he might have earned because of it by fleeing the village. The man who was once the epitome of friendliness and integrity was now perceived as a selfish coward. And though few expressed those words on the open street, that sentiment thrived behind closed doors and around dinner tables. It was only a matter of time, most felt, before the name Otto Nibbs would be uttered on the streets loudly and with fiery contempt.

  Katherine stepped out the front door of Amanda Stewart’s house later that evening, bathed in the soft light from a pair of oil lamps on either side of the stone pathway. The second night of Old Autumn was cool and clear, touched by the silvery glow of the nearly full rising Bear Moon. She was bundled in a cloak and wore a pair of thin gloves while walking up the leafy street on her way to the village hall to locate Oscar and Maynard who were nearly late for dinner.

  She and her mother, along with the acting mayor, had been invited by the Stewarts for a meal that evening. Katherine had hoped to run into Lewis at the house, but learned with disappointment that he had left shortly before she and her mother had arrived.

  As she strolled past the Water Barrel Inn, she noted that the two broken windows had been replaced and that the eating, drinking and merrymaking continued on within as if nothing had happened. She turned
a corner and continued north up the next street, fondly recalling that the Water Barrel was one of Nicholas Raven’s favorite haunts. It seemed a lifetime since he had walked out the door of the ice cellar and fled into the darkness, yet it had been just over a month and a half ago. She worried about him and hoped that he was safe, wondering if he would ever step foot in Kanesbury again.

  Soon the village hall loomed in view, its windows comfortably awash in yellow light amid the encroaching darkness. As Katherine neared the front steps, she noticed Ned Adams approaching.

  “How are you this evening, Ned?” she asked as he neared. She suspected that the fire had fully engaged his time and thoughts during the day.

  “Oh, hello, Katherine,” he replied absentmindedly, his focus still elsewhere. “I, uh– What did you say?”

  She smiled. “I wanted to know how you were doing,” she repeated, gently touching his shoulder. “I imagine not too well after what happened.”

  “Maybe not at first,” he said, “but surprisingly my wife and I are managing all right, at least for today. Many people have been so kind, including your mother. She sent over a pot of beef and barley soup and a loaf of bread. We’re more than grateful.”

  “I’m glad to hear that,” she replied. After they conversed for several minutes, she inquired if he had seen Oscar and Maynard.

  “They’re still meeting inside, I suspect. That’s where I’m heading now,” he explained. “I told them I’d probably be late.” He took Katherine’s arm and escorted her up the few steps to the front doors of the village hall. “They’re discussing measures to protect the village, including the patrols Clay Brindle has suggested. I guess after the fire, people are taking Otto’s warning more seriously despite him sneaking off like a scared jackrabbit.” Ned was about to open the door and then paused, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Katherine, but I didn’t mean to disparage your uncle like that. It’s just that…”

  “I’m not offended, Ned. It’s understandable after all you’ve endured.” She wrapped the folds of her garment tightly about her shoulders. “I suspect many are thinking the same thing. Uncle Otto has fallen out of the good graces of most after the way he behaved. Even I can’t understand it. Otto acted so unlike himself when my mother and I spoke to him the other morning. He seemed…”

  “Yes?”

  “Not himself, I guess.” She sighed. “He possessed a faraway look that I’ve never seen before, as if he were a shadow of his former self. My mother thought so, too. I imagine being kidnapped by the Enâri would unnerve anybody, yet Uncle Otto seemed a completely different person. Does that make any sense, Ned?”

  “I felt the same way when I spoke to Otto, too.”

  “You don’t have to humor me,” she replied. “I’m probably sounding like a foolish girl who let her imagination fly. It must have been the shock of seeing my uncle after so long and in such an unexpected manner that caused me to experience those feelings.”

  “But you said your mother had reacted similarly.”

  “That’s true.”

  “So believe me when I say that Otto appeared different to me as well, though I also tried to explain it away to the strangeness of the situation and the early morning hour. But he isn’t the only one. Why, I was even thinking that–”

  Katherine looked up as Ned stopped in mid-sentence, detecting a hint of uncertainty in his voice. “What were you going to say, Ned? I’d like to know.”

  He grinned with embarrassment. “I’m going to sound like I’m the one with a lively imagination, but I was going to say that, well…” Ned uncomfortably cleared his throat as he fingered his coat collar. “Ever since Maynard was appointed as acting mayor, he seems to be a bit different, too. More distant perhaps? Still friendly and all, but just not quite the Maynard I know, if you understand me.”

  “I do!” Katherine said. “Though I never mentioned it to anyone, I attributed his cool demeanor at times to the fact that Nicholas had run away and Adelaide Cooper was missing. Maynard was very fond of them both.”

  “Having two such dear people torn out of his life must have been a shock. How would we behave if it had happened to either one of us? Yet you and Nicholas were good friends and you appear to still be as gracious as ever.”

  “Thank you. Nicholas and I were well acquainted, though not for nearly as long as he and Adelaide had been with Maynard. It saddens me that Maynard is roaming around the farmstead all alone these past several weeks.”

  “His extra duties as mayor will do him good,” Ned remarked. “Take his mind off of being alone.”

  “I suppose so.”

  “But I still find it odd,” he continued, “that Adelaide’s disappearance, the robbery at my mill and Arthur Weeks’ murder all occurred at the same time those Enâri creatures escaped from the Spirit Caves. Then Otto later meets with the Enâri at Barringer’s Landing, was apparently kidnapped and escaped, and now flees his own village? It doesn’t make sense. I believe Caldurian is mixed up in this, though I can’t prove it. Kanesbury is sinking into trouble all over again like twenty years ago. It sickens me!”

  Ned appeared visibly shaken, combing a hand through his thinning hair. If anything upset him even more than the destruction of his business, it was the devastation that was about to be unleashed upon his beloved village according to Otto Nibbs. That Otto was nowhere to be found only multiplied his anxiety.

  “Many feel as you do, Ned. You’ve lived in Kanesbury your whole life and built up a successful business. An attack on either one is like an attack on your family. You should be angry.”

  “I am, though I must keep my senses or I’ll be of no use to anyone.” He sighed regretfully. “I suppose, Katherine, that I lost my senses on the night Nicholas ran away. Being accused of robbery and murder would be enough to make anyone do something rash. I should have believed him when he expressed his innocence despite what the evidence looked like. I’m guessing that Nicholas might also have been caught up unawares in whatever trouble is brewing here. He had no reason to rob me or kill Arthur Weeks.” He scratched behind his neck. “But Dooley claimed that Nicholas attacked him and then killed Arthur, so maybe Nicholas did rob me. Oh, but I just can’t seem to figure it out! And now my head’s starting to ache.” He placed a hand on the door, preparing to step inside. “Well, we’ve chatted enough. Let’s go in and find out what the council is up to.”

  “Wait,” Katherine said, carefully contemplating her next words. “Ned, there’s something you need to know. I probably should have told you or somebody else a long time ago, but I made a promise and…” She looked uneasily into his eyes. “Since there is more at stake now than my own safety, I must speak up.”

  “What are you talking about? You look positively distressed.”

  She signaled for Ned to follow her down the steps toward a nearby maple tree, desiring more privacy. “As I said, I made a promise to someone not to reveal the information I’m about to tell you,” she told him, glancing around at the nearly empty street to make sure no one was in earshot. “He insisted that I do so for my own safety, but now the safety of everyone in Kanesbury is at issue.”

  “What are you saying? And who did you make a promise to?”

  She hesitated before answering. “It was to Nicholas. I promised not to say anything when we talked on the first night of the Harvest Festival. He was hiding in the ice cellar at Oscar and Amanda’s house during the party after he was accused by Arthur Weeks of being a thief.”

  Ned’s eyes widened in amazement. “I was at that party, though I left early because I was so upset about the robbery and learning that Nicholas had been fingered as the culprit.”

  “He insisted that he didn’t commit the crime,” Katherine said. “I gave him some food and let him sleep awhile in the cellar. He had planned to go back to Maynard’s farmhouse after things calmed down, but they only got worse.”

  “Arthur Weeks was stabbed to death.” Ned sadly recalled the horrific details of that night. “Dooley claimed that Nicholas
had hit him before killing Arthur.”

  “But Nicholas had been asleep in the ice cellar. I woke him later and told him the horrible news.”

  Ned placed his hands upon his hips, his face tightening as he contemplated a dozen questions at once. He paced a few steps, replaying the events of that night in his mind.

  “If what you say is true, then Dooley lied to everyone. And Arthur also lied by claiming that Nicholas had returned to the gristmill after hours when Arthur was cleaning up the place.”

  “I’m telling you the truth, Ned.”

  “But why would Arthur lie? Did he and Dooley steal the flour sacks–and my money–and place them in Nicholas’ shanty?” Ned raised his hands, at a loss. “For what purpose?”

  “I don’t know. But Dooley does have Nicholas’ job now.”

  Ned felt his limbs grow cold. “Would Dooley arrange all that just to get Nicholas’ job? I find it hard to believe.” He looked up at Katherine with fear in his eyes. “Worse yet, do you think that Dooley was the one who killed Arthur?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I suppose it’s possible, but I find it difficult to believe that even he would do something like that.”

  “Agreed,” he replied. “There must be more to this conspiracy. But if you can vouch for Nicholas’ whereabouts at the time of the murder, then at the very least, Dooley Kramer is a liar. Whether he is a murderer is yet to be determined.”