The Dragons Revenge (Tales from the New Earth #2)

by J. J. Thompson

  “I remember being quite curious about this 'deep magic' the enchanter spoke of,” he said as he proceeded to make Simon a cup of tea. “I'd thought until that time that magic was magic, but that comment got my attention.”

  The air elemental carried the cup of tea to Simon, who accepted it gratefully.

  “You're welcome. At any rate, that is the last I ever heard of this deep magic. But now I wonder if the gods haven't found a way to allow you to tap into this source of power instead of using your own magic.”

  “You never asked the wizard you were bound to what this magic was?” Simon asked as he sipped the hot brew.

  Aeris looked a bit shocked.

  “Of course not. She would have been offended to learn that I had been listening to a conversation between my betters.”

  “Your betters? What does that mean?”

  Aeris remained silent, apparently irritated by that long ago memory.

  “We've told you before, master, how we elementals were treated by the old wizards,” Kronk spoke up.

  Simon looked down at him.

  “But Aeris makes it sound like you were no better than slaves.”

  “Worse than slaves, master. We were...”

  The earth elemental shrugged, obviously at a loss to explain.

  “We were nonentities, my dear wizard,” Aeris said bitterly. “Furniture was treated better than those summoned by wizards. We came, we obeyed, we were dismissed. And that was all there was to it.”

  He seemed to be trying to force a smile.

  “Do you wonder that we're so concerned for your continued good health? You are the only wizard I've ever known to treat me, and I suspect Kronk as well, as people.”

  “You are people!” Simon averred forcefully. He set down his cup on the floor beside him and stared from one small figure to the other.

  “You know, I'm just as glad that I never knew any of those old-timer wizards. They sound like horrible people.”

  “Different times, master,” Kronk said simply. “They were taught that we were useful and so we were used. It sounds like you are still bitter,” he said looking up at Aeris. “For my part, those people are long dead and brooding about the past does no one any good.”

  Aeris frowned but Simon had to smile at the little earthen.

  “You know something, Kronk? You've got a very level head on your shoulders.”

  “I am simply practical, master. We live in the here and now, do we not?”

  Simon picked up his tea again and sat back with a sigh.

  “We do indeed, my friend. And I for one am grateful for it.”

  Weeks passed and the worst of the winter weather began to wane. Simon slowly and very carefully exercised his magical muscles and soon was able to memorize two spells at once.

  After that, things began to improve rapidly. The altered spells did not tire him out at all and his practice sessions were only limited by his having to memorize both spells before he cast them. It was a bit tedious, but he'd learned his lesson and didn't push it.

  Simon guessed that it was around early March or so when he achieved his next breakthrough. After clearing it with the elementals, who were both very encouraged by his progress, he cast the Magic Mouth spell for the first time in months.

  Like almost all of his other spells, he'd altered the communication spell and easily memorized and cast it. There was no effort at all.

  He focused on his memory of Clara's face as he invoked the spell and then hesitated a moment, afraid that it hadn't worked.

  “Clara?” he said tentatively. Both Kronk and Aeris were watching him as he sat in his study, staring through the window at the blue sky beyond.

  “Simon? My goodness, is that you?”

  It was definitely the cleric's voice. She sounded both surprised and thrilled to hear from him.

  “Yep, it's me all right. I've finally reached the stage where we can talk at a distance again. So how are you?”

  “Oh, I'm just fine, my friend. Better, now that I can hear how well you sound.”

  “Do I?” Simon asked. “Well, thanks. I wanted to try out the spell and I really wanted to see how you and the villagers are doing. Aeris gives me reports, but it's not the same as hearing it directly.”

  “I understand.”

  There was a moment's pause.

  “We're doing well, all things considered. It's been a hard winter, but our supplies have held out and except for a rather severe strain of the flu that had half the village down for two weeks or so, everything is proceeding as it should. We are encouraged by the warmer weather. Maybe we'll have an early spring. That would be a blessing.”

  “I'm with you there. This winter's been a hard one.”

  Simon glanced idly at the elementals and smiled at their expressions. Obviously they were trying to interpret the one-sided conversation.

  “I do have some rather excellent news, my friend,” Clara said. She sounded a bit excited.

  “Good news? Great. I could use some.”

  “All right then, here it is. About a week ago, we were visited by some old friends.”

  Simon sat up and listened attentively.

  “Old friends?”

  “What old friends?” Aeris asked in surprise.

  The wizard motioned for him to shush and Aeris folded his arms, glowering at him.

  “The dwarves. They're back. You remember when they had to retreat during the fight with the dragon?”

  Simon winced. He'd been afraid that all of the dwarves who had come to volunteer to battle the primal black with him had been killed.

  “I remember it very well, I'm sorry to say.”

  “Don't be sorry, Simon,” Clara said sternly. “They chose to help. And the good news is that although several were severely burned, there were no fatalities. Shandon Ironhand, the son of the dwarven king, journeyed here with a few of his people. They brought us some much-needed iron and other metals and we traded some of our grain for it.”

  The wizard let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

  “So they're okay. That's a relief.”

  Clara chuckled.

  “They are more than okay. Shandon wanted me to pass along his apologies for leaving the battle. And he also made what I consider to be a rather generous offer.”

  “Offer?”

  He looked at Aeris who seemed ready to burst with curiosity.

  “What kind of offer?” he asked as he looked away from the air elemental. Aeris' expression was so comical, Simon was having trouble holding in his laughter.

  “Well, they know that we have to deal with all five prime dragons. Four now, actually. He's impressed that you killed the black, by the way.”

  “Just luck, really.”

  “Hmm, I doubt that. At any rate, he's offered to transport you and a small party anywhere you need to go in the world, via one of their tunneling machines. Just tell me whenever you want to travel and I'll relay it to him when I see him.”

  Simon sat back with a thump. He was amazed at the offer. He'd had no idea of how he was going to travel to confront the other dragons, if and when he was ready to do so. The dwarf's offer was priceless.

  “Thank him for me when you see him next, won't you?”

  “Of course I will. In fact, I already have. Dwarves are a secretive bunch and he must really admire you to let you into one of their machines.”

  “Then he's easily impressed,” Simon replied, his face getting hot.

  “Again, I doubt that. You really don't take enough credit for your achievements, Simon. Do you know that?”

  The cleric sounded a little irritated.

  “It was a group effort, Clara. So how often are you going to be seeing the dwarves?”

  “They say roughly every four to six weeks. Any time you need a ride, let me know. You may have to wait a few weeks but that's the best they can do.”

  “It's more than generous of them. So, besides that momentous news, how are our four young Changlings doing? Vi
rginia and the others?”

  The rest of the conversation concentrated on the village and what news there was. When Simon broke the connection, it was after promising to travel to Nottinghill as soon as the snow had melted enough to make the journey at least a bit comfortable.

  When he was done, he looked at Kronk and Aeris again. Simon forestalled the impending outburst by the air elemental by telling them all the news immediately. By the time he was done, Aeris' mood had turned to one of wonder.

  “Dwarves offering to do you favors?” he said to Simon. “Extraordinary. By all accounts, they are almost xenophobic in how they relate to other races.”

  “Yeah, I got that impression the first time Clara told me they were trading, cautiously, last year. Nice that they've come around.”

  “Well, you certainly won't need their services for quite some time,” Kronk said sternly as he stood watching Simon with his hands planted firmly on his hips.

  “Meaning?” Simon asked.

  “Meaning that unless you've achieved master-class status as a wizard and haven't told us, you are in no condition to face a dragon, let alone one of the primals.”

  “Yes, thank you, Kronk. I'm well aware of my limitations at the moment,” Simon told him acerbically.

  “Just making sure, master. Cart before the horse and all that.”

  Simon rolled his eyes, stood up and walked over to the work table.

  “All the more reason to keep up my studies and my practice. One day soon, if I don't go to find the remaining four prime dragons, they'll come looking for me.”

  Chapter 8

  The winter was almost over when Simon felt ready to travel to Nottinghill. There were still mounds of snow piled under trees in the forest, but the field in front of the tower was clear and the ice on the lake out back was nearly gone.

  A few strands of grass were poking their green tips tentatively out of the thawing ground and the wizard was cheered immeasurably every time he saw the vibrant color sticking out through the brown earth.

  His magical skill had leaped forward and he was now able to memorize four spells at once. Along the way, he'd modified all of his spells and discovered several new ones including Shield and Fire Wall. Both spells were modifications of other spells and looked useful, especially the Shield spell.

  Simon knew when he'd passed the 'delicate' phase of his training. It was when Kronk and Aeris had finally allowed him to pick up Bene-Dunn-Gal, his staff. Although he'd been itching to use the weapon to augment his powers, the elementals were having none of it.

  “That would be cheating, master,” Kronk had told him firmly.

  “I quite agree,” Aeris said. “That...thing is dangerous at the best of times. But in your current state, it could easily take control of your magic and then where would you be?”

  Simon had called them a few names under his breath but had bowed to their protests.

  So when the pair had announced that he had progressed far enough in his training to use the staff safely, the wizard felt like he'd been handed a gift.

  “Well, here we are,” he'd said to the staff that morning. It leaned against the wall beside the door as it had for months, inert. Simon allowed his eyes to slowly run the length of the weapon, admiring its workmanship.

  His friend Daniel had given him the spell to summon Bene-Dunn-Gal, but the wizard wondered yet again where the staff had come from. Who had created it? How long ago? Aeris claimed that only a highly skilled artificer could have made such a powerful magical object and Simon wondered what the staff had been used for and by whom.

  He reached out with a trembling hand and picked up the weapon. The bronze metal that spiraled up its length was cool and smooth to the touch. Simon had been afraid that Bene-Dunn-Gal would feel the same way it had after he'd lost his magic; heavy and dead, a piece of wood and metal and nothing more.

  But as he lifted it, the staff warmed under his touch and a faint glow shone through the bronze. A whisper of sound, like faint music, rose out of the weapon and carried faintly across the room.

  “I believe it is happy to see you, master,” Kronk said as he watched carefully.

  “Yes, I think it is,” Simon said with a smile. The staff weighed nothing now and he raised it up and twirled it once like he was twirling a baton. Then he laughed with mingled happiness and relief.

  For the next few days, Simon used the staff while casting his spells. And just as he remembered it doing before, Bene-Dunn-Gal augmented his powers, increasing the strength of the spells and their duration. It still took a drop of blood from his palm for each cast, something that made Aeris shudder, but it was a small price to pay for the added boost in spell power.

  And now the wizard was finally setting off to see Clara and the villagers. The day was bright and warm, relatively speaking, he had the staff strapped to his back and he was ready to go. Or at least he hoped so.

  Kronk had decided to stay home and take care of the mares, since Simon would be riding Chief again, and generally watch over the place. Aeris would accompany the wizard; he was always happy to travel to Nottinghill to see his four young Changling friends.

  As Simon led the big stallion around the tower from the stable and prepared to mount, he looked down at Kronk, who'd followed him, and would close and lock the gate after he was gone.

  “Are you sure you don't want to come?” the wizard asked the little guy one last time.

  “Yes, master, quite sure,” Kronk answered dutifully. He sounded slightly tired of the question. “If you decide to stay overnight, which I think you should, then you will know that everything here is being taken care of and you can enjoy your visit.”

  “I suppose that's true,” Simon agreed and then grunted as he pulled himself up on to the saddle. “But even if Aeris and I do decide to stay over, we'll be home bright and early tomorrow. Maybe I'll give you a call with the Magic Mouth spell before we start back.”

  Kronk's expression brightened.

  “Oh, that would be considerate, master. That way I can put on the kettle before you get back.”

  Simon laughed and, with a wave, turned Chief's head toward the forest across the clearing and headed out, with Aeris floating in his wake.

  The journey took almost two hours, twice as long as usual. There were several very large, high drifts of snow that hadn't melted much yet and the wizard had to detour around them each time.

  Although it was still chilly, Simon removed his gloves and opened his jacket as the day went on. The sun was quite hot and he found himself sweating about halfway to their destination.

  “Better overdressed than under, I say,” Aeris told him pertly when Simon complained about the heat. “You're still regaining your strength and it's best not to take chances.”

  “Yes, mother,” Simon replied grumpily as he wiped the sweat off of his forehead.

  Aeris just sighed and didn't answer.

  But when they finally emerged from the woods on to the little rise that overlooked Nottinghill, Simon shivered and buttoned up his coat. The wind, that the shelter of the forest had saved them from, cut through him on the exposed slope and he flipped his hood up over his head as well.

  The town looked much as it had the last time the wizard had visited. But except for some mounds of snow that had been shoveled into piles along the inside of the wall, Nottinghill looked almost clear of winter's touch.

  In front of the main gate, Simon could see that the ground was churned up and frozen from, he assumed, hunters leaving to find prey to help feed the town. Strangely, he couldn't see any movement in town. He wondered if the brisk, chilly wind was keeping people inside.

  He looked up at the sun and guessed that it was just after noon, so perhaps folks were having lunch.

  Vaguely uneasy, Simon chirped at Chief and the stallion carefully made his way down the mild slope.

  They swung around to the left to approach Nottinghill on the main gate side. Simon and Aeris exchanged looks of surprise when they noticed that the gates were
closed. That wasn't normal.

  “What do you think is going on?” Simon asked the elemental.

  Aeris was frowning at the closed gates.

  “I have no idea,” he said as he floated along beside the wizard. “I've never seen those doors closed in daylight before.”

  The wizard shrugged. “Well, we'll find out soon enough.”

  When they got to about thirty feet of the gates, a hidden voice rang out.

  “Halt! Who goes there?”

  Simon pulled back on the reins and stopped Chief abruptly. He looked at Aeris.

  “Who goes there? Are they kidding?”

  The elemental looked like he didn't know whether to laugh or become angry. He settled for confusion.

  “No clue, my dear wizard. Do they have a lot of visitors that we don't know about? How many wizards come by that ride a bi-corn and have an elemental with them?”

  Simon looked up at the wall but could see no one.

  “Well, I might as well humor her,” he told Aeris quietly. The voice had been that of a woman.

  “It's Simon O'Toole,” he shouted and pushed back the hood of his coat.

  “And Aeris!” the elemental called out.

  Simon had to stifle a laugh at the elemental's self-important tone.

  “Simon O'Toole?”

  A head popped up above the wall to the right of the gates. “Oh damn, it is you!”

  Simon recognized the guard that had been on duty the last time he'd visited. He hadn't caught her name.

  “Sorry about that,” she continued. “It's hard to see with all this glare.”

  The wizard realized that the thin, crusty snow was reflecting the mid-day sun and understood that the guard had been blinded by it.

  “No problem,” he told her with a smile. He shivered a bit at the fierce bite of the wind. “Uh, any chance that we can come in?”

  The guard jumped slightly.

  “Oh, of course, of course. Just give me a moment to open the gates.”

  Her head disappeared and Simon waited as patiently as he could.

  “I'm still not sure why the gates are closed,” he muttered to Aeris.

  “Your guess is as good as mine,” the elemental replied, brow still furrowed.