The snake was heading toward Zuul, however, and Aldous watched with hopeful anticipation even as his shielding spell was destroyed by Kazimir. But Kazimir spun and hit the snake with a spell from his open palm. As the serpent disappeared, Aldous leapt through the remnants of the sparking shield spell and swung his glowing staff at Zuul, who looked up with a mouth full of pumpkin mush and screamed. Aldous put a great amount of energy and magic into the blow, but Kazimir was quick to block it. The two staffs came together with a terrible boom, sending both wizards flying back into opposite walls.
Kazimir rebounded easily, as did Aldous, who used a similar spell that caused stone to repel him with the power of gravity. They shot toward each other, staffs leading the way like the lances of two flying knights. The tips of the staffs met perfectly. There was an explosion of power as both wizards poured magical energy into the strikes, and the two staffs exploded on contact.
Again the wizards were blasted back, but this time Aldous had no energy to stop from hitting the wall. He landed in a crooked lump of robes and singed beard hair, but struggled to his feet nonetheless.
Just then, the door burst open and Jonathan suddenly rushed into the room. The wizard apprentice didn’t hesitate when he saw Kazimir; he extended his wand and spoke a spell that would kill the Most High One. His pronunciation was perfect, his inflection superb, and his form impeccable. For one fleeting moment, Aldous was quite proud.
The spell shot across the room in the blink of an eye, straight and true. Kazimir lifted a hand and spoke the words that would send the incantation back at its wielder.
Jonathan knew what to do against such a counter spell, and he produced a replica of himself with a quickly spoken word and moved out of the way. The counter maneuver might have worked, had Kazimir not caused Jonathan’s death spell to multiply by two.
One hit the mirage, and the other found Jonathan’s chest.
Aldous silently watched his apprentice fall dead. He turned teary, hateful eyes upon Kazimir.
“It was self-defense,” said Kazimir, shrugging. He blew on the end of his wand and stuck it in his robe. “The kid did pretty good though. That is some aggressive magic you’ve been teaching them dopes at K.C. I thought you lot would have taught them to freeze or disarm opponents, or some such nonsense.”
“You will live to regret what you have done,” said Aldous, getting up on shaky legs. He gathered what magical energy was left inside him.
“Don’t do it,” Kazimir warned.
Aldous raised his good hand and released the spell. Kazimir countered, and everything went black.
Chapter 24
Into the Horrible Hills
After two more days of travel through the Swamp of Doom, the companions finally came to the border of the Horrible Hills. Princess Chastity reined in her mount as they crested the western rim of a wide bog.
“Behold,” she said, extending her arm wide. “The legendary Horrible Hills.”
The Horrible Hills were nothing like Murland thought they might look. Rather than the large, rounded hills that he envisioned, these more resembled spires. They reached dozens, some even hundreds of feet into the sky, the largest of them poking the low-hanging clouds. The spires stood in the mist like silent sentinels, and Murland felt many eyes on him. From his vantage point, he could see hundreds of the spires stretching out into the hazy fog of mid-day. The sky gave no indication of the location of the sun, but rather glowed uniformly from east to west.
“You will not be able to navigate through the Horrible Hills using the sun or the stars,” said Chastity. She handed Sir Eldrick a small circular box with a glass top. “This is of my own invention. It is an enchanted piece of branch floating in a special tincture. The branch will always point back toward the tree from which it came. See there, the green dot on the end of the stick? It shall point to Fire Swamp forever.”
“Ah,” said Sir Eldrick, impressed. “And west is the other direction. Perfect.”
“Do not lose it, for many souls have gotten lost in these famously haunted hills.”
“Are they really haunted?” Gibrig asked, looking at the finger-like spires with apprehension.
“I have traveled through the hills a few times, for there are rare ingredients here that cannot be found anywhere else. And yes, I have seen spirits.”
“Any chance they’re nice?” Gibrig asked.
Chastity laughed sweetly. “I imagine that some of them are. I would not worry so much about the lingering dead as I would the hill trolls.”
“Trolls?”
“Yes, smaller than those found in the east, but foul all the same. They hate fire, so be sure to always keep torches lit. Do not get caught in the dark.”
“Oh, we won’t run out of fire,” said Murland, holding up his wand. “Now that I have this, we’ll never be without it.”
“There is another thing,” she said with some hesitation. “I don’t mean to worry you, for she walked this land nearly a century ago…”
“What is it?” said Sir Eldrick.
“A witch. Her name was Gurtzarg, and she was vile to say the least. I encountered her only once.” Chastity pulled down her blouse enough to expose a dark scar on her right shoulder. “I got away with a warning, and have not ventured into the hills since.”
“We’ll be careful,” said Sir Eldrick.
She smiled at him and said, “Oh!” as if she had forgotten something. She reached in her bag and handed Murland a jar. “This salve is to be applied to your hand every time you change your bandages, which should be every few days unless they are soiled. Keep the hand clean.”
“Thank you again,” he said.
She smiled at them all and finally looked to Sir Eldrick with tears beginning to grow at the edges of her eyes. “I don’t know how to thank you for transforming me. You have given me my life back.”
“My lady, a knight does not require thanks for serving so fair a princess,” said Sir Eldrick, kissing her hand.
“Oh gag me with a silver spoon,” Brannon mumbled, but the knight paid him no mind. Instead, he embraced Chastity, tipped her back, and kissed her deeply.
“Get a room!” said Willow out of the corner of her mouth.
Gibrig and Brannon laughed.
“If you are ever in Magestra,” said Chastity, “look me up.”
“My heart, and my loins, yearn for the day, my lady.”
She slapped his arm playfully, and he brought her in for another kiss.
When they finally parted, Chastity said goodbye to them all, lingering on Sir Eldrick for a moment, before turning and walking up to the highest point on the ridge. She put two fingers to her lips and whistled, and out of the swamp came a large red pterodactyl. After mounting the beast, she waved to them all before taking to the sky and heading east.
Sir Eldrick gave a forlorn sigh.
“I know how you feel,” said Murland, patting the knight on the back with his good hand. “I’ve got myself a princess back home too.”
“You do?” said Sir Eldrick, with more than a hint of doubt and surprise.
“Yeah, it’s his pillow,” said Brannon, kissing his arm in mockery and panting, “Oh princess, oh princess.”
“It ain’t like that,” said Murland.
“No,” said Willow. “It’s like this.” She turned around and hugged herself, stroking her back while moving her head as though she were kissing someone.
“Bwahahaha!” Gibrig burst out. “Sorry,” he said to Murland.
Murland shrugged it off. Willow was funny, after all, and he was quite used to being the butt of jokes. “Laugh all you want, but she gave me a kiss before I left, and, well, a kiss from a princess must mean something, right Sir Eldrick?”
The knight was watching after Chastity dreamily, and he snapped to when he heard his name. “Huh? Er, yes, of course. A kiss from a princess means everything.”
The companions gathered their bags from the avaceratops and set the beasts free. They were creatures of the swamp, Ch
astity had said, and wouldn’t do well in the Horrible Hills.
It was only a few hours before sunset when they set out. Sir Eldrick decided to at least try to make it a few miles into the hills before making camp. They had taken the time to make torches as well, one for everyone, and Sir Eldrick lit his, saying that at least one should be burning always, even during the day.
As they took their first steps into the hills, many eyes watched from those towering spires of green.
Chapter 25
The Hills Have Eyes
The first night in the Horrible Hills wasn’t as bad as the name might imply. The companions found a suitable nook at the foot of one of the spires and made camp, and no one saw anything alarming during the night. There were many strange creatures, to be sure, but aside from the spire monkeys and white-faced eagles, the creatures all seemed small, which was a stark contrast to the mammoths of the swamp.
The sun rose the next day, though no one saw it. Instead the horizon began to glow the same dull white as the dense fog floating through the hills, like river waters around islands of stone. Breakfast was had at sunrise; a meal of smoked snake and snails that the princess had provided them, and camp was broken down shortly after. They headed out feeling good, and Sir Eldrick even whistled a merry tune as they ventured farther into the hills.
“So,” said Gibrig as he walked beside Murland. “Tell me ‘bout yer princess.”
“Caressa? Well, where to begin?” said Murland. “She looks a lot like Chastity, but younger, our age. Like I said the other day, we’ve been friends since we were little kids. She has a beautiful singing voice, and is an exceptional violinist. She is kind, smart, quick witted, with laughter like music. And she has a wonderful sense of adventure.”
“How ye be knowin’…ye know, that ye be in love with her?” said Gibrig sheepishly.
“Do you have a girl back in the Iron Mountains?” Murland asked.
Gibrig let out a nervous laugh. “Well, I ain’t got her, but I think I would like to. How do ye know?”
“Well, Caressa makes me want to be a better man, a better wizard, just…a better everything. When I’m with her, everything is right with the world. And when we’re apart, especially since I set out, well, the world is not so right. I always have that feeling like I have forgotten something at home.”
Gibrig gave a sigh.
“Is that how you feel when you’re with your girl?” he asked.
“Nah, truth is, I ain’t never been with her, never even talked to her but for a few sentences at market. She be the blacksmith’s daughter.”
“What’s her name?”
“Amethyst,” he said, unable to help but smile when he said her name.
“When we return to Fallacetine as heroes, you should definitely introduce yourself.”
“Yeah…” said Gibrig, but he had become suddenly forlorn.
“What is it?”
“I don’t know. Ye really think I be returnin’? I mean, Sir Eldrick be a valiant knight, Willow be a swamp brawler, ye got yer magic, and Brannon’s got his, and he can fight. What do I have to offer?”
“Are you crazy? Gib, look at what you’ve done already. If it hadn’t been for you, the cyclopes would have eaten us all.”
“Ye would have figured out a way to get free.”
“No way, we were as good as roasted. And you held your own against the darklings as well.”
“I guess.”
Murland shook his head. “I know.”
Gibrig smiled.
“Think them monkeys are good eating?” Willow asked from behind them.
“If one gets too close, you go ahead and find out,” said Sir Eldrick, who walked ahead with Brannon.
The rain started to fall late in the morning, and it still hadn’t let up by the time they made camp that night. Everything was too wet to make a fire, and Sir Eldrick thought it unnecessary for Murland to use his magic to start one, so they ate vegetables and smoked meat that Chastity had packed for them all. Willow ate slowly, saying that she was starting her healthy diet again, though Murland caught her more than once eating the slugs that clung to the wet stones of the spire.
In the morning, Murland took to the skies with Packy to check the ravines ahead. The spires had become more prominent, clumping together so tightly that only narrow ravines remained to traverse through. A bed of bare stone formed pathways in places, having been exposed by the flood waters that flowed from the spires and created small rivers in the ravines now and again. The companions were glad to still be wearing the gator hide boots that Willow had made in the swamp, because it rained all the next day, and the deep pockets between spires soon rose nearly to their knees. Sir Eldrick didn’t like having to traverse the canyons. He said that they were the perfect place for an ambush.
Murland scoured the way ahead for that very reason, checking not only the steep spires, but the gorges, gullies, and gulches below. More than once he had to return to warn them off a certain course, for in some spots, gaping chasms opened suddenly, the dark storm waters falling into silent darkness. He flew over these, peering into the depths far below the earth, and he wondered what nightmares of the ancient world might be lurking there in the unknown.
“The unknown is fear, and fear is the unknown. That is why we wizards strive to learn all that we can, for fear is the mind killer.”
Murland heard High Wizard Bumblemoore’s words in his mind, and he tried to take heart in the ancient wizard adage.
He flew south, searching the passages for a safe path through, and was startled by what he saw coming through the maze of ravines in that direction. Murland had only seen pictures of trolls, and he could only guess that these child-sized beasts were the spire trolls that Chastity had warned against. They rushed through the gorges, numbering at least one hundred, and heading straight for Sir Eldrick and the others.
“Oh no,” said Murland.
He coerced Packy to turn around and swooped down between the spires to warn his friends. He saw them traversing a rocky riverbed a few winding pathways away from the trolls and didn’t even bother to land.
“Trolls coming from the south, follow me!” he yelled to them, flying only inches above the group.
He led them through the first northern passageway he could find and flew ahead to check the next junction. To his dismay, he found the little trolls coming from each of the three ravines that would soon branch with the path the champions were on.
Murland let out more than one colorful curse and doubled back, checking for other possible routes, but there were none. They were trapped.
He mentally recited fire spells as he returned to Sir Eldrick and landed before him.
“It’s a trap. There is no way out.”
“There is always a way out, kid,” said Sir Eldrick, looking up at the vine-covered spire. “Come on!” he said to the others, and after sheathing his glowing sword, he started climbing up the spire with torch in hand.
“Are you serious?” said Brannon, eyeing the tall spire with disbelief.
“There are hundreds of trolls headed this way,” said Murland. “Quit wasting time, go!”
Brannon jumped at the mild-mannered wizard’s command and began climbing after the knight. Gibrig followed close behind, and Willow stood staring up at the climb. She spit in her hands, rubbed them together, and began as well.
Murland flew around the spire, watching with dread as the trolls circled the stone monolith and began shambling up with practiced agility. He withdrew his wand and held it in his left hand, considering if he should use it. He hadn’t tried to cast a spell with it since mending it—and nearly burning off his right hand. Cradling the bandaged appendage, he found his resolution. If he was ever going to use the wand of Kazam, now was the time.
“Listen Packy. I need you to fly me around the spire while I focus on them trolls.”
The backpack gave no reply, but it banked hard, showing Murland that it understood. Murland focused his magical power in his core, extend
ing it slowly to his left hand and into the wand. As they came swooping down and around the spire, Murland pointed the wand at the trolls on Willow’s heels.
“Ignis!” he bellowed into the rushing wind. His voice should have been lost to the gale as he sped through the air, but instead it boomed through the hills, and the wand of Kazam exploded with firelight. Flames leapt out of the rod, much more fire than he had intended, and engulfed the trolls.
Murland’s heart soared. The power was intoxicating. He grinned to himself, circling the spire and lighting it on fire with joyous glee.
Sir Eldrick and the others were steadily climbing up the spire, but their going was slow, and despite Murland’s efforts, the trolls kept on coming, climbing over their charred kin and clawing their way up the burnt vines. He got a good look at them then; they were no more than four feet tall, with green and yellow and sometimes brown skin covered in warts. Their faces were twisted and deformed, with black eyes that were too big or too close together, and noses like pigs. Their mouths were large and round, and ringed with long teeth meant for gnashing. Serpentine tongues licked at the air, and what they tasted caused the abominations to twitch and salivate.
Murland unleashed fire again, scorching the roots of the spire, but still the trolls advanced. His heart fluttered, and a strong palpitation slammed in his chest. A wave of fatigue overcame him, and he looked to the wand. It was far more powerful than the flimsy carved branches that he had made, and it was exhausting his energy quickly to wield fire. He tried to think of another spell, but all the words from the ancient text melded together into a useless heap. He dared not utter the words wrong, for who knew what might happen?
Sir Eldrick was the first to reach the top, and he swiftly rooted himself and pulled up Gibrig. Brannon was lagging, and if it had not been for Willow pushing up on his rump with her head, Murland didn’t think the elf would have made it. When they were all safely at the top of the tall spire, Murland landed.
Beyond the Wide Wall Page 17