“Is this all?” Zollin asked.
“Yes,” the steward said in a voice that made it clear the man felt Zollin was beneath the steward’s dignity.
“Alright, please tell the king thank you again for his hospitality.”
The steward nodded but didn’t reply, his face blank as if he didn’t want to give anything away.
“I’ll show myself out.”
“That won’t be necessary,” the steward said.
When Zollin looked over his shoulder he saw a squad of guards. He didn’t feel that he was in danger but he raised a shield around himself just to be safe. A little bow sent the steward away and Zollin hurried through the castle, climbing the high tower. Halfway up the winding staircase, Zollin was sent a mental image from Ferno. The dragon was circling the castle. Zollin couldn’t help but notice the feeling of desire the dragon had for the gold in the city. The dragon could sense the gold the same way Zollin sensed magic, but the gold had a powerful effect on Ferno. It was almost an addiction and took all of the dragon’s willpower to resist the temptation to ravage the city in search of the precious metal.
Zollin sped up and was breathing heavily by the time he reached the top of the tower. Ferno was already there, and greeted Zollin with a menacing growl. The soldiers held back, not willing to get too close to the huge dragon. A quick push of magic sent Zollin flying up onto Ferno’s back.
“Let’s get out of here,” Zollin said.
Ferno roared. Not the normal growl of anticipation before taking flight, but a resounding roar that echoed through the castle and streets below. Then it jumped high into the air, the massive green wings unfolding and flapping hard, propelling the thickly muscled dragon and the wizard on its back away from Forxam.
Zollin leaned forward trying to ignore the sting of the icy wind. In the distance to the north he could see a thick bank of clouds. With a thought suggestion sent toward Ferno, they turned south and flew toward the Great Sea Of Kings. Zollin hoped that by staying close to the great lake’s shore they might avoid the gargoyles. Flying was a much faster method of travel and they could have covered the same distance it had taken them a week to traverse on foot in just a single day through the air. Of course the last thing Zollin wanted was to fly into the gargoyles’ territory just before nightfall, and worse yet in a thick cloud bank that would cut the visibility to nearly nothing.
They flew all day without stopping and reached the shores of the great lake in the afternoon. Ferno turned west and followed the shoreline. Zollin could see small villages and fishing boats out on the dark blue waters. The day was bitterly cold and Zollin guessed that a massive storm was coming. The weather didn’t seem to bother Ferno too much; the dragons were accustomed to cold temperatures high in the mountains. The green beast couldn’t warm itself up by breathing fire and letting it roll along its body with Zollin on its back, but the hulking dragon didn’t complain.
They came inland a few miles as the gray light of day faded. Around the great lake the terrain leveled out, but inland the steep, rocky ravines and thick brushy trees returned. They made camp on a low rise in the middle of a cedar grove. Zollin built a fire and Ferno went hunting. It was the first time since the gargoyles had attacked them over a week earlier that Zollin felt truly alone with his thoughts. He banked the fire with fist-sized stones and then settled in against the trunk of a fallen tree.
They had left Forxam so quickly they hadn’t bothered to resupply, so after eating a meager ration of dried meat, and sipping some water from his canteen, Zollin wrapped his cloak tightly around him and went to sleep. The night was cold but peaceful, and the roaring fire worked to keep Zollin warm and the other forest creatures at bay. The sun was rising when Zollin woke up and for the first time in days he felt rested.
Ferno was curled on the ground nearby, not asleep but resting and waiting patiently for Zollin to get up. After stretching and stuffing some of the dry meat in his mouth to soften up, they set out once again. The giant bank of clouds was closer and Zollin was mesmerized by the sight of snow falling in the distance. It looked like a bright white fog flowing down from the clouds onto the dark green forest below. In fact he was so enthralled by the sight of the storm that he almost didn’t see the gargoyles rushing up behind them until it was too late.
“Go to ground!” Zollin shouted, causing Ferno to dive toward the forest below.
They had a plan mapped out to defend themselves if they were attacked. The first step was to find a good position on the ground to fight from. Ferno would have preferred fighting in the air, but Zollin thought it was too dangerous. They were too exposed high up in the sky. Plus, if Ferno was hurt again they might not survive the crash.
Secondly, they wanted a clear line of sight, with plenty of space for the dragon to move around in. They didn’t want to nullify Ferno’s strength among the trees. And finally, they needed to position themselves so that Zollin could bring all his magical prowess to bear. In the sky, the young wizard couldn’t do as much to help fight off the strange gargoyles.
“There!” Zollin shouted, sending a mental image of a rocky bluff that was devoid of trees. The rock outcropping towered above the surrounding forest and had no soil to grow anything in. It was a bare crag, like a jagged bone protruding from the forest.
Ferno swooped down lower than the summit and then rose back up to make a soft landing as his momentum stalled. Zollin was off the dragon’s back and looking up at the sky as the first of the gargoyles dove toward them. The horrific creatures were very heavy, their fat bodies held aloft more by magic than by their wings. Zollin took a deep breath then reached out with his magic, nudging the gargoyles off course. Those that came close to the summit where Zollin and Ferno had taken refuge were immediately attacked by the dragon. Ferno’s tail was thick and strong, with bony plates all along the top. The dragon was skilled in fighting both in the air and on the ground and used its tail to swat the fat gargoyles off the cliff, sending them tumbling down into the forest.
The gargoyles came in small bunches usually three or four at a time, their gray-skinned bodies looking like dark clouds against the gray sky. The snow started shortly after Ferno and Zollin landed to fight off their attackers. The huge storm clouds had finally reached them and Zollin could only hope they would be able to hold out long enough to escape in the storm.
The wind picked up, howling across the forest and blowing snow in every direction. Zollin stayed hard at work, making the sky unsafe for the gargoyles. Those that fell usually tried to fly back up to attack again, but Zollin sent them spinning away or nudged them so that they collided together or into the cliff face. Zollin knew that their position wasn’t sustainable. The gargoyles were like a swarm of insects, their numbers continually growing.
Despite the fact that Zollin and Ferno had beaten back every attack, they weren’t keeping the strange creatures out of the fight. Eventually the gargoyles began to climb the cliff. Their long skinny arms and legs had thick claws that gripped into the rock, allowing them to pull themselves up hand over hand. Luckily the weather was growing worse and Zollin noticed the freezing temperature had a strong effect on the stony beasts.
Zollin could feel the gargoyles climbing, but the snowfall had become so intense that they couldn’t see anything beyond a few feet in front of their faces. Zollin wasn’t sure what to do, but it seemed like their best chance of escape was to fly away with the storm hiding them. His plan to fight the gargoyles had been sound, but he knew he had to pace himself. If he used his magic too heavily, he would become weak. The strange creatures were slowing, and some had even reverted back to stone. They hung on the sides of the cliff face, some still climbing, others merely hanging on in the midst of the raging storm.
“Can you fly?” Zollin shouted to Ferno, trying to be heard over the storm.
The dragon growled and nodded its great, green head.
“The storm is slowing them down. Let’s find a better place to take refuge for the night.”
The
y couldn’t see, so Zollin sent his magic out all around them. He could feel the snow, millions of thick clumps being blown through the air. He could also feel the forest below them and he searched for shelter as they flew. Ferno kept his mind open to Zollin and flew high where the air was so cold it formed icicles in Zollin’s nose and around his mouth. Fortunately, nothing else was in the sky. The storm, it seemed, had grounded the gargoyles.
Villages were few and far between in Baskla outside of the coastal areas and Zollin knew a village wouldn’t have a place of refuge for Ferno. Instead he used his magic to search for a natural shelter and eventually found one tucked into the side of steep hill. It was a cave, but not a deep, narrow one. It was more of a pocket in the side of the hill, with a thick overhang and a wide recession into the stone.
Zollin guided Ferno down and they landed several hundred feet from the cave. Already the snow was deeper than Zollin’s knees. They trudged through the snow until they reached the cave. Outside the shelter the wind howled and the snow billowed, but once they were safe under the cave’s natural ceiling everything calmed down. Nothing protected them from the snow, but the way the cave had formed the wind seemed to whip past but never blow into it. The snow fell in a deep drift just beyond the cave opening, but inside the shelter the air was warmer and dry. It was still cold, but just getting out of the wind made a tremendous difference to the way Zollin felt.
“Time to get a fire going,” he said.
Ferno spewed a gout of flame that burned away the dust and a thin layer of dirt that had settled onto the stone floor of the natural shelter. The dragon breathed fire until the stone was warm. Then Ferno curled up on the darkened rock and fell asleep. Zollin knew the dragon’s body heat would keep him alive if necessary, but he wanted a fire. He wanted to get out of his wet clothes and feel the luxurious warmth of a good fire. He could use magic to start the blaze but he needed wood to sustain it. And while the cave offered a refuge from the storm, it was unfortunately free of plant growth other than lichen. Zollin needed dead, dry wood, but he would have to go out into the storm to get it.
Zollin walked to the edge of the cave. The forest was dark from the snow storm and Zollin knew it was possible that if he left the cave he might get lost. He was tired and cold, so the thought of gathering the wood by hand was not welcome. Instead he let his magic flow out into the forest. There was plenty of wood on the ground, from fallen branches to toppled trees, but it was all covered in snow. Zollin took a deep breath and let his mind touch several thick logs. He imagined them rising into the air and felt his magic stirring inside him. The heat of his magic did nothing to warm his shivering body, but it was a familiar process. He wasn’t as strong as he used to be, and after their battle with the gargoyles he was exhausted. Even the simplest spell was taxing to the young wizard.
The logs rose up into the air, although Zollin couldn’t see them in the swirling maelstrom of snow outside the cave. He levitated the wood through the large opening in his shelter and shook the snow from the wood. Using his magic was both invigorating and exhausting. He enjoyed using his magic when he wasn’t fighting for his life. It was like exercise for his body and pushing himself was rewarding as he felt his strength growing. After stacking the wood near the back wall of the shallow cave, Zollin reached out for more.
It took ten minutes to gather enough wood that Zollin felt certain it would last them through the night and into the next day. It was possible that moving more wood would be difficult if several feet of snow fell and Quinn had always taught Zollin to anticipate difficulties. After piling several logs together, Zollin reached deep inside the wood with his magical senses and pulled the moisture out. He could have burned the wood without removing the moisture, but it would have consumed the wood too quickly. Once the wood was dry it only took a little magical coaxing to get it burning.
By the time Zollin had his boots off and his wet clothes removed, the fire was burning hot and bright. The warmth was so soothing that Zollin stood as close as he could for several minutes. If the storm hadn’t soaked through his pack he would have put on fresh clothes and spread out the others to dry, but everything in the pack was wet. Zollin spent several minutes magically drying his clothes and blanket. After filling his small cook pot with water, Zollin put the last of his dried meat into the pot and hung it over the fire to boil. There were a few wrinkled onions and potatoes in the bottom of his pack. Zollin had to cut away the sections that had grown soft, but he put the rest into the pot. It was a poor stew, but Zollin didn’t mind. He was tired and hungry, but also safe and dry, and considering the recent attack by the gargoyles, Zollin felt fortunate just to be alive.
After spreading his blankets near the fire and cooking his stew, Zollin ate the entire pot of food. The warm stew and relatively comfortable camp made Zollin drowsy and he was soon sleeping comfortably despite the fact that his bed was solid rock. At first he was lost in a dark, dreamless sleep, but then he felt a vibration. At first it seemed like any other dream, but soon the vibration came again, and even in his sleep Zollin could tell that something was calling to him. It spoke through his sense of magic. Something was nearby that wanted to be found.
Zollin woke from his dream with a sense of urgency. The fire had burned low and while the storm raged outside the cave, it was too dark to see what was happening. At first Zollin was afraid that something dangerous was coming. He’d seen no sign that the shallow cave was used as a den for any type of animal or magical creature, but it was the safest refuge for miles around. As Zollin stared out into the dark night he felt the vibration again, the same as he’d felt in his sleep, only more clear this time. It was purely magical and only his supernatural senses had picked up the vibration. There was something in the cavern—something powerful—that wanted to be found.
Zollin couldn’t explain how his magic spoke to him or guided his actions. It wasn’t sentient, and didn’t feel alive, yet it responded to his presence and his actions. It was in many cases an extension of his will, and yet it was also separate from the young wizard, completely independent. Zollin got to his feet and added several logs to the dying fire. Soon the blaze was alive and well, the flames dancing up several feet above the wood casting a yellow light around the gloomy shelter.
There were many types of caves. Zollin had traveled through the wondrous caverns of the dwarves deep under the mountains. He’d also explored a dragon’s lair high in the craggy mountain peaks. In the woods outside his childhood home in Tranaugh Shire he’d climbed down into caves which were little more that deep cracks in the earth. The cave he was in now was simply a large alcove in the ancient hillside. It was rocky and sheltered with a thick overhang of crumbling stone, but the earth all around the cave insulated it so that inside it was warmer than out in the winter storm. Still, there was very little to explore. Zollin picked up a burning branch from the fire and used it like a torch as he walked to the far side of the cavern.
The shadows fell back from the light of the fire, and nothing seemed unusual to Zollin. From the way things looked the cave was simple and empty, just a naturally occurring pocket in the ancient hillside. But as Zollin cast out with his magical senses, he felt something more. In the far corner of the cave was a subset, hidden by a simple screen that was painted to look like stone. Zollin wasn’t sure what material the screen was made of, but it moved away from the nook in the rock wall of the cave easily enough.
Behind the shade was a smaller cavern, little more than a deep pocket in the cave. There was a bundle inside the nook, a rotting cloak that was wrapped around something long forgotten. Zollin started to reach for the bundle, but a sudden vibration gave him a feeling of dread. He let his magic pour into the nook and discovered a small trigger under the bundle. Had he simply picked the bundle up, the trap would have been engaged and a heavy stone that was hanging just above the entrance to the small nook would have dropped.
It was a simple trap, something to keep a thief from taking what was stashed in the nook. Zollin sen
t his magical senses into the nook and found a triangular stone. He used it to wedge against the large block to ensure that it didn’t fall. Then he carefully levitated the bundle out of the nook. The cloak was so old it was falling to pieces but the artifacts inside seemed well protected. Zollin lowered the bundle to the floor near his fire and hurried over to see what he had found. Any cache of hidden items was an exciting find, but something in the bundle had strong magical power and called to Zollin in a way he’d never experienced before.
He unfolded the cloak, which appeared to be an animal skin of some type, but most of the hair had fallen out and the skin itself was so rotted it fell apart in his hands. The first thing he saw was a leather pouch with gold coins. The leather had grown so stiff it was split in several places, but the gold inside gleamed in the firelight. It was a small fortune, but it wasn’t what excited Zollin most. There was a dagger with a dark blue metal blade and a tarnished brass handle. Another pouch held at least a dozen quills, the feathers bare from decay, but the writing ends were all sharpened and in good working shape. Whatever the magical item was, it was kept in a finely crafted wooden box. Zollin lifted the lid on the box and found a purple amulet on a silver chain. His reservoir of magic surged as he picked up the amulet. The purple stone was the size of his thumb nail and held in place by what looked like a dragon’s talon fashioned from gold. There was a thick chain of tarnished silver that was made to hold the amulet. Zollin used his magic to remove the tarnish from the metal in one swift motion, then he held the amulet up to the firelight.
His magic reached out through him and mingled with the magic in the purple stone. The sensation it gave him was different from any other magical object he’d ever encountered. Normally his power joined with that of the object, giving him access to the object’s magic. But the amulet’s power was indistinguishable from his own. The magic from the purple stone flowed into Zollin, filling his magical reservoir and giving him a sense of strength he’d not felt since before his battle with the witch had drained him of his power. But the amulet did more than strengthen Zollin, it gave him a sensitivity to his power he’d never felt before. It was as if he could sense the magic in every cell of his body, each one humming with strength.
Chaos Reigning: The Five Kingdoms Book 10 Page 7