Ramos nudged Cara in the arm, pointing at the adept-imminent. He placed a finger to his lips then pulled her out onto the balcony through the windows. They pressed their backs against the stone wall and listened hard.
“It’s time,” said Madrid. “The council must be brought to their knees. With death staring them in the face, they will agree to our plan. We can finally help the people of Gaia as emperor and assistant.”
Wizard Tanis stirred at Madrid’s words, lifting his eyes from the scroll he had been reading. “They are stubborn old men. They will not agree until there is no other choice. They will need to believe it in their bones, that they are a breath from death, before they will agree to our plans. Are you sure they are ready? I do not want to reveal our plans and deception until the outcome of that exposure is assured.”
“I tested the elixir before beginning its application. Their time can be counted in short hours now, a couple days at most. They will wish to live, not die. They will accept our terms.”
“You are sure that we will be able to control the radical elements, once we have gained control of the wizard’s combined magic? You could not have tested that theory, not completely.”
“Ah, but I have! There are creatures unknown to Gaia that are born of this elemental magic, and I have studied the annals about such creatures. Dragons and chimera and kulshreda are but to name a few. There was a time when such creatures existed in Gaia. The knowledge is there, if obscure,” said Madrid.
“Then it is time. Is that the last of the elixir?”
“Yes.”
“Then go, administer it to our friends. I will speak to the people by the gates and warm them up to the change in power that will soon occur.” At Madrid’s look of concern, he said “Oh don’t worry, I won’t give anything away. I will speak in vagaries so profound and incomprehensible, they would honour a politician. Which, I suppose, is what I am about to become.”
“Excellent plan…emperor.”
Cara heard the click of shoes on tile, and together they peeked around the corner of the window frame. Madrid left the room, leaving the door ajar, followed by Wizard Tanis, a royal purple cloak slung over his arm.
As soon as the door closed, Ramos and Cara crept back into the room and ran to the door, placing their ear against it.
“Are they gone?” whispered Cara.
“Yes,” said Ramos. “We need to warn the council! Come on!” He wrenched open the door to Wizard Tanis’s chamber. After a quick check to make sure the coast was clear, he dragged Cara down the hallway after him. He wasn’t sure who he was going to talk to, but someone had to believe him! He would tell anyone who would listen. Anyone at all.
They ran down the corridor, anxious to find a wizard well enough to both hear and believe their story. Ramos’ hold on Cara’s hand tightened as he turned down the right hand hallway and smacked into a shimmering fold of air as solid as a wall. An electrifying bolt of energy froze their limbs and sparked along their nerve endings, flaming pinpricks of pain that sparked through their bodies. Twin screams filled the air then the force field flung them backwards through the air, where they crumpled to the stone, unconscious.
Chapter 10
Here There Be Dragons
Marion reached the healer’s school at the crest of the extinct volcano about noon, the baby dragon walking beside her. She had given up on riding her horse as it was spooked enough already by the rioting in the town. The dragon was simply too much for it, so she had left it tied up in a small copse of trees off the main road, behind a barn, where she hoped it would not be found. She did not trust the mental state of the people in the town, and feared that her horse would be slaughtered in her absence.
The little Opaleye, testing her wings, fluttered and snapped at passing bugs, but spat them back to the stones when they did not satisfy. Every once in a while, Marion tossed a jewel, rescued from the condemned house, up into the air and the dragon gobbled it down like sweet treats on a holiday. The shock over the existence of dragons, an elemental born of air and fire, on Gaia was wearing off, but her amusement over a dragon’s choice of food had not. She grinned, knowing that there wasn’t a soul alive on Gaia who could afford to keep one. The idea of feeding the dragon someone’s hard-earned treasure everyday was laughable, but then again, wasn’t organic food the same thing? These thoughts entertained her as they climbed, but as the summit came into view, her thoughts sobered.
What were the condition of the children who’d fled here? Were her sisters still alive? Cautious of what she might find, she took a curving path off the main road. It ran through the stark woods that lined the roadway as it leveled out onto the flat bowl of the ancient crater where the healer’s school had been built. The dragon followed, like a trusted dog, padding along single file behind her, keeping to her footprints. She glanced back and noted that there was no evidence of the small dragon’s passage. Reaching the edge of the trees, she crouched down behind a bush and scooped the little dragon up into her arms. Already, she could feel the fire breather was heavier than a few hours ago.
The building beyond was silent as a tomb. Not a creature stirred. The windows were shuttered against the cold night air and possible attack. “What do you think, little Opal? Is it friend of foe sheltered beyond those walls?”
The dragon nuzzled her pocket, snuffling for more gems. “Hey, you will burn a hole in my pocket!” She laughed and pulled out a fat sapphire, holding it out for the dragon. The dragon’s tongue flickered out and snapped up the gemstone. Marion patted its head, the spikes not yet hardened to bone and flexing under her hand. “What am I going to do with you? You can’t stay here.” Her eyes drifted over to the snowy tops of the mountain ranges of Fjord and Tyr. “I think we will need to go to another province. But first, we need to find Cherise.”
She tucked the dragon under her cloak and crept up to the hospital, making for the area that would normally admit the sick. A striker was attached to the wall by the door and a little wooden mallet hanging from a peg. She picked up the mallet and struck the plate in a certain pattern that was known only among the witches of Ionia. There was a momentary silence and she heard the sound of he lock being released. With a creak, the door opened to a white-haired woman holding a lantern. “Come in, quickly.”
Marion stepped across the threshold. “Who are you?”
“Marion. I am a new healer. I came to help.”
“Follow me.”
The woman led her deeper into the building to an interior room with no windows. Bright light spilled out of the doorway and the murmur of voices cut off abruptly as she entered the room. It was crowded with women and children alike, sleeping on pallets that covered every inch of space. A cup of tea was brought to her, but she waved it away as she walked over to the head of their order, identifiable by a brooch pinned to her dress.
“Mother, I am Marion. I came to assist you, but along the way I found this, a fire breather.” She pulled the little dragon from under her cloak.
Marion handed it to the tall woman, who sighed and said, “We found two others. They are here, also. That should account for them all. They were planted on the town, according to witnesses. A peddler came through with the eggs and traded them to a couple farmers for goods. He left, promising that the eggs would bring good fortune. You saw the result behind you.”
“The dragons need to be taken away. I will do this for you, Mother. I know the hills and forests of Tyr. But first, I have a request from the mayor. He asks to know of the fate of his niece, Cherise.”
The mother healer handed the dragon back to Marion then took her hand and led her to the back of the room where the injured lay on pallets. A girl with red hair lay curled into a ball, a blanket bunched around her slender form. She appeared unharmed.
“Is she hurt?” asked Marion, taking in the condition of her companions.
“No, she is fine. But her gift is strong. Those around her recover faster than when alone, so we have grouped those who are hurt the worst, closest to
her gift. She is a little miracle. But it exhausts her. She has no control over her magic and needs to be cared for as much as these others. She will make a great witch. We will pass by the mayor’s house and let him know that she is safe and cared for.”
“Thank you,” Marion said, and then gave the location of where the mayor could be found to the Mother.
“Now you must rest before starting out once again. We will take care of the dragons while you sleep. I will take your charge to where the others are being kept.” She led the way down the blackened corridor to a stone room where the dragons were being housed. Nests of sticks were covered with animal hides, and a bowl of bright jewels sat beside one of water in the middle of the room. The Opaleye struggled to be released from Marion’s arms and as soon as her feet touched the ground, she scampered over to her litter mates and curled up in the middle of the pair. Marion took the key from her host and locked the door back up, then paused when the door next to the dragons was pushed open for her.
“We will prepare everything you need. Get a few hours of rest. We will send you on your journey the swiftest way possible, via a tunnel that stretches from here to Castle Ionia. It is the safest way.”
“I never knew such a tunnel existed!” said Marion.
“It is not discussed. It is for emergencies only, and this is certainly such a time. But is a secret you will be forbidden to speak. You will know of its existence but you will not be permitted to speak the words to anyone else. Try to do so and you will find that your mind wanders until you have forgotten what you were about to say. Stand still while I plant the thought in your mind.” The mother healer reached up and touched Marion’s temples. “You will know the route and the passage, but that is all. Any mention of this passage is forbidden.”
Spell complete, the Mother dropped her hands. “Now sleep. We will wake you when it is time. Food will be brought when you awake.”
Exhausted, and grateful for the chance to rest, Marion crawled under the blankets and was asleep before her head touched the pillow.
Chapter 11
Captured
Ramos blinked. The motion was slow and painful. Every bone in his body hurt. Every fibre of his being, hurt. As far as he could tell, he was burning in a personal hell. His very cells burned with an all-consuming flame. Yet one thought rose to the fore of his consciousness. Cara. Ramos forced himself to wake, and with it came a sensation of helplessness. He was bound, hand and foot, and lying on a stone floor. He lifted his head and a measure of relief returned along with a renewed panic. Cara lay beside him, a large bruise swelling on her forehead. Her face was pale, but her chest rose and fell evenly. “Cara,” he whispered. “Cara, wake up.” She did not stir.
Ramos wiggled his body, rolling over onto his back to get a better view of where they were. The legs of a bed brought him up short and he spied a blue robe flung over the end of the bed. With a sinking feeling, he realized they were lying on the floor of Madrid’s quarters.
“Cara, wake up!” There was no response to his plea. He inched his way over to the corner of the bed where the ropes tying them twisted around a metal post. They were tied to the frame, but perhaps he could shift it. Ramos leaned into the corner and tried to push the leg but nothing happened. Unsurprised, his eyes traveled over the room, looking for something he could use to cut their bonds.
The room was simply furnished. A dresser and wash basin sat against the wall that held the door and the lone bed was shoved up against one wall. A desk for studying was shoved up against the opposite wall and the fourth wall held a small window. It was exactly like every other adept room along the corridor. Ramos gathered his legs under him and tried to heave the bed up, but its weight was too much. He sat back down, panting and abandoned his attempts to free them. Instead, he crawled over to Cara. He nudged her with his shoulder then leaned down and kissed her on the cheek.
Cara’s eyes flew open and she stared up into his blue ones and smiled. “Hello,” he said softly and straightened, giving her space to move. Cara smiled back and then it faded from her eyes.
“Ramos, you are hurt!” Her look of shocked surprise made Ramos look down for the first time. His eyes fell on his upper arm and chest. They were covered in blood, the robes rent from side to side as though a dull guillotine had dropped onto his body. Blood flowed from a deep gash that clearly showed his collar bone through the torn tissue. With the evidence before his eyes, the fiery sensation was replaced by a deep agony as pain slammed into him.
“Oh my!” he gasped and swayed on his knees. Cara sat up, still bound and pressed her body against his, keeping him from collapsing. Forbidden tears glazed her eyes. “I can do this. I can do this,” she murmured. “Ramos, lean against the bed. I need to see the wound.”
Ramos leaned back with a heavy groan, as the room swam. Cara wriggled her way around to the edge of the bed then rolled onto her knees, pressing the ties binding her arms against the rough edge of the bed post. She sawed at the edge catching the taut fibres against the abrasive edge. The threads split as she sawed and with a final snap, her hands came free. She shook off the last of the ropes then placed her hands on either side of the wound and pressed. Ramos screamed, and then fainted.
Cara bit her lip and then took a deep breath to steady her fluttering nerves and then reached inside herself to find the spark of magic she knew lurked within her core. It was an elusive thing, sliding away from her mental grasp like water running through a strainer. It took five tries before she could grasp the elements needed, to heal the deadly wound. She pulled earth and water and fire and added a touch of spirit to the mix and began to move her hands over his shredded flesh, knitting the skin back together. She moved her hands over his body, seeking out other pieces of shrapnel embedded under the skin, teasing and healing the cuts and lacerations.
When she was sure that she had found every single cut, she opened her eyes. All that was left of the gash was a pinkish line of baby soft skin, to show where the life threatening wound had been.
She untied the ropes on her legs then reached over to loosen the bindings on the adept’s arms and legs. She laid Ramos down to rest for a moment while she took stock of their situation. Ramos snored softly. He would be too weak to face the wizard. There was no choice, really, but to flee. They didn’t have the ability to take him on and if they were there when he returned, she was certain they would both die.
I think the only reason we are still alive is that Madrid was in a hurry. He’d paused only long enough to secure them out of site. If Ramos had died of his wounds before Madrid returned, it would be one less problem for the imposter.
They needed a disguise. She hurried over to a storage chest shoved out of sight under the foot of the bed and pulled it out, opening the square lid. Inside were several pieces of clothing discarded by the previous occupant of the room. She pulled out two humble robes with hoods and threw one over her own clothes, then kneeled down beside Ramos and gently shook his shoulder.
“Ramos, wake up. We need to go.” Ramos stirred and woke, but could barely keep his eyes open. “What happened, where…?”
“Shhh, we don’t have time for that. Come on, wizard, we need to get out of here.”
“Not a wizard…only an adept.”
“If you don’t get up off that floor, you won’t even be that. Now come on.” She reached down and pulled him upright, swaying unsteadily.
“All right, I’m up. Let’s get out of here.” Memory came flooding back to Ramos, and he looked down. “Did you heal me?”
“Yes, now shut up will you? Come on.”
Together, they stumbled out the door and fled, wanting nothing more than to put as much distance between themselves and the castle as possible.
Chapter 12
The Fall of the Keep
The moans of the ill wizards filled the chamber, their breaths mixing as they rattled from their chests. Death was imminent, and they knew it. Weakened beyond resistance, the magic in their veins fading, they stared death in its
face. They knew that the source of the plague was the wizard adept standing before them in silver-robed glory. He had not sickened. In fact, he had not been affected in the least by their illness, as he moved among them offering tea and soup laced with the elixir that was killing them all.
This morning Madrid entered the chamber with Wizard Tanis at his side, equally as healthy and robust as the adept. They brought neither soup nor tea, but instead the adept pulled from under his robes a rack of stoppered tubes with a blue liquid. They stepped into the middle of the chamber then Wizard Tanis addressed the wizards.
“My fellows. You are all dying. You have hours, perhaps a day of life left in this world. It is unfortunate, but true.” His gaze was somber, but pitiless. “For all that I have enjoyed your august company over the centuries, the world is changing. Magic is no longer a benign gift to the people. They demand that it be harnessed and controlled. We,” he gestured to Madrid “intend to honour that request, beginning right here and now. You have a choice. You can choose to die, or you can choose to live on, your magic harnessed to our will. We intend to build a bridge between the provinces to reform the Citadel keep to be the true center of the world. We will bring peace to Gaia and harness all magic to use to benefit all. It begins with you. It is time to make your choice.” Madrid stepped forward and held out the vials. “Drink this, and join us in ruling this world. Drink this, and your magic will be used for good as we harness it and your will to a divine purpose. Or refuse, and you will die right now, your magic lost to the elementals. This is your choice.”
The sick wizards stared at Tanis and Madrid, chests rattling, barely able to sit up on their beds. They exchanged glances and then, one by one, they accepted the proffered vial. They struggled to pull the cork then downed the contents in one gulp. As the potion hit their stomachs, they gasped, clutching at their throats. They rose off their pallets into the air and a whirlwind swirled around them, whipping their soiled clothing. Faster and faster the wind blew until they were nothing but blurs of grey. With a clap of thunder and an explosion of sparkles, they vanished. The wind died and silence descended in the chamber.
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