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

by Thomas J. Prestopnik

  Tyler suddenly stopped, his heart racing. He locked gazes with Farnsworth who glared back at him from just a few feet away with a cold, horrifying stare. Tyler instinctively lurched backward, pressing against the tower wall as he lifted his lamp even higher as a defensive motion, expecting Farnsworth to lunge at him.

  “Are you all right?” asked one of his men on the flight below.

  “Stay there!” Tyler replied protectively in case Farnsworth prepared to attack. “I found him,” he added, not taking his eyes off the man for even an instant.

  But as the deputy gazed at Farnsworth, he grew cautiously calm as his sense of disorientation slowly dissipated and his eyes began to make sense of the spatial peculiarity before him. Tyler leaned forward, grasping the staircase railing with his free hand as he held aloft the oil lamp with the other to better illuminate the area. He could now see Zachary Farnsworth in whole, seemingly floating in the air before him while cloaked with the evening gloom. But Farnsworth said nothing while continuing to stare in Tyler’s direction, his head tilted as he slowly turned his entire body to one side as if purposely ignoring the deputy. Tyler carefully leaned over the railing, bringing the lamp closer to Farnsworth until the reality of the situation icily took hold.

  The sickly glow fell upon Zachary, highlighting his oddly discolored countenance and slightly distorted features. Tyler cringed upon closer inspection. He noticed a piece of rope wrapped tightly around Zachary’s neck. Slowly raising his eyes and the oil lamp, Tyler followed the taut line all the way up the center of the tower to the pulley wheel connected to the side of the bell unit. The large bell was raised upward at a sharp angle, frozen in place because of the weight of Farnsworth’s cooling corpse, and as utterly and eerily mute as the dead man dangling silently beneath it.

  CHAPTER 120

  The Many Roads Ahead

  The village awoke to cool air and clear skies the following morning. When its residents took to the streets, a lightness of heart and freedom from worry enveloped them as they went about their business. Talk of Nicholas’ trial was rampant, stories of which took on new and more exciting dimensions depending upon who was telling the tale. But in any version, Nicholas and Otto were painted as heroes and treated like royalty for a time wherever they showed their faces, particularly Nicholas when rumors of his adventures abroad made the rounds through Kanesbury.

  “I heard that he and King Justin drove Vellan from his very stronghold,” remarked Arlo Brewer as he chatted with Zeb Walker outside the bakeshop as the aroma of fresh honey bread wafted out an open window. “Just the two of them–unarmed, mind you.”

  Zeb shook his head as he leaned on a fencepost. “I don’t know where you get your facts, Arlo, but a reliable source at the Water Barrel Inn said that Nicholas was under secret orders to track down the Enâri leader. Said that he cast some wizard’s spell on the creature, destroying the entire horde in the process.”

  “A wizard’s spell?” he replied with a derisive grunt. “Who at the Water Barrel told you such nonsense? Someone pickled in ale, no doubt! In case you haven’t noticed, Nicholas Raven isn’t a wizard.”

  “He’s no soldier either!” Zeb fired back.

  “Well, one of us is wrong,” he replied with a laugh, slapping Zeb on the shoulder. “We’ll have to discuss it later at the inn until we get our facts straight, okay?”

  “Excellent idea!” he heartily agreed, promising to meet Arlo there at dusk, both certain they would get to the bottom of the contradictory stories as soon as a few mugs were drained in such a worthy endeavor.

  On the day after the trial, Katherine and Lewis accompanied Clay Brindle and his men to the swamp to recover the bodies of Dooley Kramer and the hired assassin. The climbing sun, pasted upon a cobalt blue sky, warmed the line of horse-drawn wagons rattling east down River Road.

  “A proper burial will help close this sad chapter in Kanesbury, but it’ll take place outside the village,” the constable said on the ride over. “Zachary’s corpse will join them.”

  When they arrived at the watery stretch, now overwhelmed by trees in full bloom and the wild, leafy undergrowth of late spring, Katherine was not surprised that the assassin’s body was not to be found where Lewis had buried it.

  “No doubt Zachary returned after he suspected that I had been here,” she guessed. “He must have stumbled upon the body, dug it up and disposed of it elsewhere.” A chill ran through her at the thought of it.

  “And there’s no way to get to the island,” Lewis said after having searched for the rowboats. “Both vessels are missing. I’ll wager Dooley’s body is, too.”

  Clay leaned on his cane, assessing the situation. “If Farnsworth moved the corpses, we’re out of luck. But the two boats are missing. Zachary might have feared he had to work fast and…” His words lazily trailed off as he gazed across the murky water with a shrewd gleam in his eyes. “Maybe King Justin’s men can help us.” He glanced at his deputy. “Tyler, we need to build a few rafts.”

  Later the following day, Prince Gregory directed his men to construct two makeshift rafts upon the water’s edge to conduct a search. After Clay’s men and the garrison soldiers methodically dragged the swamp for a couple hours, the decaying bodies of Dooley Kramer and Dell Hawks–and the boat they had been tethered to–were pulled up from the bottom with several grappling hooks. The other sunken boat had been located earlier in less deep water and raised, a large gash visible on the bottom.

  “Nothing can stay hidden forever,” the constable remarked as the evidence was hauled onto shore. “Sooner or later, Farnsworth was going to get caught.”

  “I’m glad it was sooner,” Katherine replied as she and Lewis watched the grim proceedings unfold. “Even the short time he was in power proved far too long a stretch. Still, I suppose things could have been so much worse for Kanesbury,” she said, feeling Lewis’ comforting arm wrap around her, grateful he was at her side through it all and certain he would be there in the days and years to follow.

  Three days later, King Justin and Prince Gregory departed Kanesbury to much fanfare. The prince returned to the Graystone Garrison with some of his soldiers, taking into custody the nine men whom Zachary Farnsworth had hired, all with Clay Brindle’s blessing. King Justin, however, had other plans as he explained at a farewell dinner the night before at Oscar and Amanda Stewart’s home. He would trek to Arrondale’s eastern border with his troops as he hadn’t visited that region lately. If time allowed, he would visit King Brendan of Montavia, anxious to see how he and Prince William were faring.

  Maynard and Adelaide were also settling in, both again comfortable at home now that the trial and all the attendant secrecy were behind them. Nicholas savored his newfound freedom as well, finding a quiet hour that afternoon to sit in his cottage near a sunny, open window and write a long letter to Ivy. It was six days until summer. A balmy breeze and the call of blue jays drifted through the window, soothing his mind.

  Later, after Nicholas strolled over to the posting house and paid his fee, the attendant handed him another letter. “This arrived earlier,” he said, handing him a piece of folded parchment sealed with blue wax. Nicholas smiled upon seeing the royal embossing upon the wax. “It looks important, but at the rate Edgar is moving these days, you probably wouldn’t have gotten it until tomorrow.”

  “Thanks.” Nicholas meandered outdoors into the sunlight, standing across the street opposite the banking house. He ignored Farnsworth’s old place of employment and scanned the neatly penned words upon the front of the parchment–Mister Nicholas Raven, Village of Kanesbury, Litchfield County, Arrondale. His invitation to Megan and Leo’s wedding had arrived. Before he broke the seal, a voice called to him from up the street.

  “Nicholas, glad to see you out and about,” Ned Adams said. “I had wanted to speak with you sometime after the trial, but it seems we’re all too busy lately.”

  “I wanted to talk to you, too,” he replied. “I was hoping to–”

  “Oh, may I go
first?” Ned asked as the two wandered a short distance to a large maple tree and stopped in its cooling shade.

  “Certainly,” he said. His former employer appeared tired and careworn as if the events of the past few months still weighed heavily upon his mind.

  “I want you to know that the gristmill repairs are progressing nicely,” Ned informed him. “If all goes according to plan, we should be operating by late summer, well in time for the final harvest.”

  “That’s great news!”

  “And though you probably haven’t decided your future plans in light of all that’s happened, I want you to know that your old accounting job is still available if you want it.” Ned stared at the ground for a moment, raking a hand through his thinning hair. “You must have mixed feelings because of the way I treated you after the robbery, but–”

  “The evidence was rather incriminating,” Nicholas said, “so I can’t blame you for how you reacted. I might have done the same thing in your place.”

  “I appreciate that,” he said with a grateful smile, “but I know you’ve been a solid citizen for a long time. I shouldn’t have let my emotions fight against what I really knew deep in my heart. I should have trusted my instincts,” he added in apologetic tones. “I’m sorry for not having stood by you.”

  “You’re doing that now,” Nicholas replied, shaking his hand. “As far as I’m concerned, that’s all that really matters.”

  “Thank you.” Ned choked up as the stress and anxiety evaporated from his countenance. “So, what did you want to speak to me about?”

  Nicholas grinned. “Just about getting my old job back. I’m glad you haven’t filled the position yet.”

  “It’s yours for the taking! And with a new, larger desk to boot. I’d love to have you assist in the final stages of the mill’s rebuilding as well.”

  “I accept,” Nicholas said before quickly raising a hand and catching Ned off guard. “There is one condition, however. If all goes according to plan, I won’t be available for a couple of weeks during Mid Summer.”

  “Of course, of course! Take off any time you need to attend to Maynard and your duties on his farm. I understand.”

  “Oh, Maynard is mending nicely,” he said. “And he hired extra help for planting and harvesting. I should have been more precise about that short absence, Ned. I might not be available for part of Mid Summer because, hopefully, I won’t be here.”

  Nicholas rode through the streets of Boros on the first day of Mid Summer, guiding his wagon to Aunt Castella’s house where Ivy, in one of her letters, had promised to meet him. A light breeze blew off Sage Bay, laced with fond and heartwrenching memories from nearly a year ago. That time seemed of another age, yet the depths of horror and the heights of joy he had experienced would always be near to his heart, reminding him of the wild and unexpected journey he had been swept away upon without a lifeline. But when it was all over, he had been happily washed ashore alongside Ivy, which, he realized with a faraway smile, had made it a journey more than worth taking.

  He arrived at Castella’s house near the end of a winding, cobblestone lane. A wreath of spring berries, daisies and other wildflowers adorned the front door. As he tied up the horses by the water trough, Nicholas noted a stack of chopped wood in back of the property among the tall grass and pines. He recalled first meeting Ivy near that spot last autumn in the fading twilight when his world was falling apart. Now, on a sun-splashed summer day, he was about to meet her again after nearly six weeks of grueling separation, barely able to contain his excitement that life, at last, was back on its proper course.

  He walked to the front entrance, his spirit as buoyant as the billowing clouds above. Just as he raised a hand to knock, the door opened inward. Ivy stood there, warming his heart like the rising sun. The two couldn’t help but smile knowingly at one another, realizing that their lives could go forward after having together endured many dark and dangerous roads.

  “I saw you from the upper window,” she said breathlessly. “I was so happy to see you finally arrive that I ran down the stairs.”

  “And I’m happy to see you,” Nicholas replied, calmed and energized by Ivy’s smile. “It’s been far too long.”

  They embraced in the doorway with the same longing and depth of concern as when reunited on the slopes of Mount Minakaris. The busy streets and fragrant breezes faded in the background as they held one another, sharing whispered words between tender kisses as the passage of time no longer registered for a few, sweet moments.

  “Who’s calling at this hour, distracting my housekeeper when there’s so much work to be done?” Aunt Castella’s voice resonated with feigned annoyance as she walked into the sitting room, spotting Nicholas and Ivy by the open door in each other’s arms.

  Nicholas grinned upon seeing Megan’s great aunt, a light blue checkered shawl draped over her shoulders and a beaming smile upon her face. He greeted Castella with a hug, delighted to see her again.

  “You look as healthy as ever,” he said, kissing her cheek.

  “Not having to fret about Megan and Ivy these past several weeks has done wonders for my wellbeing!” She invited Nicholas and Ivy to sit down so they could all catch up on the latest. “I have a tea kettle on. No doubt you’ve had a tiring journey.”

  “But I’m as refreshed as ever now,” he said, smiling at Ivy. Nicholas soon gave an account of his travels to Boros, mentioning how he had spent the night with Leo’s parents in Minago and stopped for lunch at the Plum Orchard Inn. “Ron and Mabel Knott send their best. They’ll ride along with us to Meg and Leo’s wedding.”

  “They’re a delightful couple,” Ivy said. “When the Marshes took me home, we stopped at the inn for lunch.”

  “I look forward to meeting them,” Castella said.

  “You should visit the Plum Orchard,” Nicholas suggested. “A day away from Boros now and then would do you good.”

  “No doubt it would,” she agreed, standing up to check on the tea. “But I’m afraid that won’t be possible now.”

  “Why not?” he asked, mildly perplexed.

  “Because I won’t be living here much longer, Nicholas. I’m selling my house.”

  As they enjoyed their tea, Nicholas learned that Castella was readying her house for sale, having decided to move to Morrenwood. At the urging of Megan and King Justin, she planned to take up residence in the Blue Citadel that autumn.

  “I’d been hemming and hawing about whether to remain in Boros another year or so,” she said. “It wasn’t an easy decision.”

  “I didn’t write of it as Castella was of two minds for so long,” Ivy said.

  “But age is creeping up on me whether I care to admit it or not,” she continued, “and the winters are becoming more than I can handle alone. Besides, as I’ll be attending Megan and Leo’s wedding there, it seemed like the perfect time to make the move.”

  “I’m sure you’ll be happy. Morrenwood is a beautiful city,” Nicholas said.

  “Still, I shall miss our many talks at your kitchen table,” Ivy told her.

  “As shall I,” Castella replied, wiping away a tear. “But whether I sold this house or not, I suspect our separation would come soon regardless.” She looked at them with a tender smile. “I see the love between the two of you and imagine you’ll soon be joining hands at your own wedding. Am I right?” she asked, eliciting smiles from them both.

  “We’ve decided sometime next spring,” Ivy said. “I didn’t want to tell anyone that Nicholas had proposed until he was with me and all of his troubles at home were settled.”

  “Which they are,” he happily chimed in. “Though we did let the news slip when we stayed with the Marshes. But now I suppose we can tell everyone.”

  “I’m honored to be among the first to know,” Castella said, raising her steaming cup to toast the couple. “And may you find a lifetime of happiness together.”

  “Thank you,” Ivy replied, her eyes misting.

  “And visit me when you can
. I shall miss you both terribly!”

  Nicholas stayed in Boros for a few days to help Castella get the house ready for market. Later, he and Ivy traveled east to Laurel Corners to spend several days with her family, promising to check in on Castella from time to time. Nicholas had briefly met Ivy’s father, Frederick, last fall after returning from the grasslands, and was happy to finally meet her mother, Constance, and two younger sisters, Martha and Jane. All felt as if they already knew him after Ivy had told them so much about Nicholas since her return. Constance thanked him profusely for rescuing her daughter.

  “I would have journeyed twice around Laparia to find Ivy,” he admitted with all sincerity, assuring her parents that she would forever be safe at his side when they announced their plans to marry to the delight of all.

  A few days later, Nicholas and Ivy walked along a deserted stretch of grassy shoreline dotted with trees and colorful, flat pebbles that had been smoothed by the constant string of waves embracing the shoreline. “The days are drifting by too fast,” she said with a hint of melancholy. “I’ll miss you when you return to Kanesbury.”

  “And I’ll miss you,” he said, stopping to reassure her as a balmy breeze drifted across the bay. “But I’ll be back in autumn when we go to Meg and Leo’s wedding.”

  “That’ll seem forever, but I suppose I’ll survive.”

  “You’ll be so busy helping Castella, planning our wedding and dealing with your two excitable sisters that you won’t even notice,” Nicholas joked, kissing her tenderly. “Trust me–the rest of summer will fly by.”

  “But even after we visit Morrenwood, next spring will still seem like a hundred years away.” She lowered her head upon Nicholas’ shoulder with a dejected sigh.

  “At least winter won’t be as horrendous as the last one we endured,” he said, causing Ivy to look up with a halfhearted smile.