Wizard Pair (Book 3)

by James Eggebeen

  "That looks like the one you described." Rotiaqua pointed to a drawing. "The Charm of Confusion."

  "No ... It had a darker jewel in the middle. Like so." Sulrad pointed to another drawing.

  Rotiaqua flipped more pages "Hmmm ... Is this it? The Charm of the Joiner? It is used to join another's magic to your own, sort of like the pairing, only through the amulet. It says it can store magic up so that the wearer can perform spells not normally accessible to him alone.

  "The Wizards of old used to loan their power to one Wizard who wore the amulet so he could perform extremely powerful spells, like raising the Keep in Amedon."

  Zhimosom carefully lay down the book that he'd been perusing. He leaned over to get a look at what she was reading. The Charm of the Joiner looked a lot like the amulet Sulrad had worn when he'd taken Helmyer's magic.

  "That's it," he said. "Does it say anything about a counter spell?"

  "No. It just describes what it's made from and how it's used. There's nothing about a way to defeat it. It is said to have been lost over four hundred summers ago," Rotiaqua said.

  "I wouldn't be surprised if Sulrad found it, and that's how he's commanding the dragons. We need to find a counter to the amulet." Zhimosom took the book and examined the drawing. "There must be something around here we can use to defeat this amulet."

  They searched for the rest of the day, but found nothing. Zhimosom was restless and kept searching, but Rotiaqua fell asleep at the table. Without the sun to mark the time deep in the library, Zhimosom lost track of it. He was surprised when, from behind the pile of books, Zhimosom heard a voice.

  "Zhimosom? Are you there?"

  It was Rotiaqua.

  "Down here. Is it morning already?" Zhimosom asked.

  "It's almost sunrise. The sky is lightening, but it looks cold. Did you find anything?"

  "Just that the Charm of the Joiner was powered by a stone from the mines beneath the Friegan Mountains."

  "How does that help?" Rotiaqua passed him a cup of tea and took a sip out of her own, never taking her eyes from Zhimosom.

  "I found reference to a spell that can freeze one of those stones."

  "Freeze, not defeat it?"

  "It's too powerful to defeat. You can't destroy one with magic. I found a spell that would freeze the stone so that it is limited in what it can be used to do. With this spell, the only thing the stone can power is the last spell it was used for."

  "How can that help?"

  "I don't know, but it's the only thing I can find that's even remotely helpful."

  Rotiaqua pointed to the spell. "This looks simple. How can it do so much?"

  "It's powered by the stone itself, so it doesn't take a lot of magic to drive the spell. Once it has been invoked, the jewel itself maintains the spell. That's why it can't be undone. It will fuse itself to the stone and freeze it into the form it last took. After that, the stone is useless for anything else."

  Rotiaqua found a quill and parchment and set them on the table before Zhimosom. He picked up the quill and carefully transcribed the spell from the book onto the parchment.

  "Did you sleep at all?" Rotiaqua asked.

  "No. I'm convinced that our leaving won't prevent another attack. We just have to make the Council see it."

  "We tried," Rotiaqua said. "We'd better get out of the Keep before they find someone to escort ..."

  Rotiaqua halted. "Do you hear that?"

  Far off, a horn sounded. Three blasts.

  Amedon was under attack by air once again.

  Attack

  Zhimosom rushed down the deserted hallways and out onto the road that led to the main courtyard. A dark cloud approached, off in the distance. It undulated as it drew near, unnatural, dark, and red. He reached out to it, sensing the power of the dragons.

  "Come on, we have to help protect those people." Zhimosom urged Rotiaqua forward.

  The surviving Wizards gathered between the Council Chambers and the gate. They had overturned carts and wagons to act as barriers against the impending dragon fire and were busy dousing everything with water and casting spells of suppression on anything flammable.

  Garlath was in the thick of things, shouting orders to the Wizards. He cast spells of protection over those who were not experienced enough to fend for themselves. He pointed to a wagon where two young Wizards cowered in fear, shouting encouragement. Zhimosom wished he'd taken the time to learn their names.

  The attack came on as a tidal wave of fire. Dragons flew side by side in rank upon rank. There were enough of the mighty beasts to blanket the entire Wizards' Keep with fire in a single instant.

  Pandemonium broke out in the yard. Carts and wagons burst into fire even though moments before they'd been drenched in water. The fire didn't slow down as it consumed one shelter after another.

  The dragons reeled in unison, turning to make another pass at the Keep grounds from the opposite direction. What little shelter remained after the first attack was of no use now.

  Garlath stood his ground, arms held high. Violet lightning crackled from his fingertips and stretch out to three of the dragons as they neared. Garlath's power was impressive. Zhimosom had not known one individual could store so much magic in his person, but even that impressive display was insufficient to deter the attack. The dragons came on, unaffected by Garlath's lightning bolt.

  A blast of fire burst from the nearest dragon and followed the crackling violet light back to Garlath. The Wizard glowed brightly for an instant, and then vanished.

  "No,” Zhimosom shouted. Frantically, he reached out for Garlath, but he was no longer there.

  Two young Wizards crouched on the ground before a blazing cart. The younger one stood up and raised his arms in the air. Zhimosom felt the feeble power of his spell, a poor imitation of Garlath's.

  A violet lightning bolt extended from the young Wizard to the nearest dragon. The dragon inhaled in preparation for the blast that would incinerate the boy.

  Zhimosom moved without thinking, placing his body between the dragon and the boy, and raised a shield large enough to cover them both. He saw Rotiaqua doing the same for others as the dragons approached.

  The fire came at him faster than he'd have thought possible. It washed over him, splitting into streams that passed harmlessly around the young Wizards. Zhimosom had expected scorching pain, but it was almost cool as it struck him.

  Startled, he reached out to Rotiaqua with his magic. "The fire doesn't harm me."

  "I see that," she yelled in his mind. "I can act as a shield too."

  Rotiaqua stepped between the advancing dragon and a woman with child who was exposed on open ground. The fire shot at her like a thing alive, but split and passed harmlessly around her just as it had done with Zhimosom.

  A screech split the air and the dragons turned again. This time the wall of flames that came at Zhimosom and Rotiaqua was impenetrable, almost as large as the courtyard itself. All around them Wizards burst into flames and turned to ash, carts and wagons were devoured in the blink of an eye and the grass and trees vanished in a brilliant orange fireball.

  Zhimosom and Rotiaqua stood there unharmed.

  "What's happening?" Rotiaqua panted.

  "When Kel'hin washed his fire over me, it restored my magic. Maybe it's made me immune to their fire. Maybe, through our connection, you are immune too." Zhimosom felt the magic in the dragon fire. He could sense each individual dragon as they turned again, heading back for more.

  "Come on," Zhimosom called. "Let's get out of here, maybe we can lead them away."

  He rushed for the gates, squeezing through the battered and broken doors and out onto the narrow road that wound its way down the mountain. Rotiaqua was close behind him.

  The dragons came at them again, fire spitting from uncounted dragons as they dove towards the pair standing on the narrow ledge. As the flames washed over them, Zhimosom felt their magic.

  That's when an idea struck him.

  Zhimosom formulated a spel
l, similar to the one he'd used to free Kel'hin from Sulrad's grasp. He carefully chose the words and gestures he would use while the dragons turned for another approach. This time, as the flames licked out, he released his hastily prepared spell.

  The spell took hold and there was a rumble, then ground beneath Zhimosom shook. Rotiaqua was thrown into the rock wall as part of the roadway broke free of the mountain and tumbled down, crashing into the switchbacks below.

  Then, there was a snap. The magic had broken. Zhimosom knew that the dragons were free. They ceased their fire and turned away from the ledge, making wild circles in the air.

  "Rotiaqua, are you alright?" Zhimosom called to her. He'd seen her stumble when the road gave way.

  "I'm fine. I think you did it," came her reply. She shook off the impact and joined Zhimosom.

  Zhimosom knew the dragons would not remain free for long. He had not been able to prevent Sulrad from reasserting his power over Kel'hin.

  He called out to the dragon. "Kel'hin, are you free?"

  "Yes," came the thought.

  "What have you done with Sulrad?" Zhimosom wanted to confront his adversary so he could try to break the spell once and for all.

  He felt Kel'hin's laughter. "He is perched upon my back."

  "Bring him to me!" Zhimosom shouted.

  "No," Kel'hin replied. "He's too dangerous. I'll take him where he cannot interfere. You must protect us from his magic. Your freedom spell will not hold when Sulrad has the opportunity to re-work his magic. I will keep him occupied for as long as I can. You do not have much time."

  With that, Kel'hin turned and headed east. Zhimosom saw Sulrad on Kel'hin's back, screaming commands uselessly as they disappeared from view.

  "To me," Zhimosom called to the dragons.

  One of them fell from the sky to land at his feet. It was every bit as large and powerful as Kel'hin. It bowed its head and looked into Zhimosom's eyes. "I am Du'ala," she said.

  Zhimosom reached out to her. He formed the transformation spell he had carefully prepared. Changing her form should make her immune to Sulrad's magic. "I'm going to change you, to protect you. Once I have dealt with Sulrad, I will return you to your original form."

  "As you say, so it will be," Du'ala said.

  Zhimosom visualized not the massive red dragon before him, but a short squat woman. She came only to his chest. She had skin that shimmered and eyes with sharp vertical slits like a snake's and short cropped white hair. He could feel the form in his mind's eye, slowly compressing the massive dragon body into the squat woman he'd visualized.

  The dragon shimmered and changed. Before Zhimosom stood the woman he had carefully imagined.

  "How do you feel?" he asked.

  "I am free," she said. "More." She pointed to the dragons circling nearby.

  "Call one," Zhimosom said.

  Another dragon landed at Zhimosom's feed and he worked his transformation spell on it as he had on Du'ala. This time, the result was a short squat man with the same closely cropped white hair and scaly skin. Zhimosom breathed a sigh of relief. It was working.

  Zhimosom transformed the dragons as they came to him. He had a dozen or so converted, when he felt the strain. He was growing weaker and soon he would not be able to transform another dragon.

  He dropped to the ground, exhausted. Du'ala came over to him, hands on her hips. "Wizard. Get up."

  Zhimosom struggled to stand as the last of his magic drained from his body. There was a loud crack and the ledge was filled with dragons as his transformation spell broke. The dragon clan took their natural form once more, crowding the roadway. Several of them lost their footing and tumbled over the ledge, plummeting towards the switchbacks below. The rest launched themselves into the air with a roar.

  Zhimosom peered over the edge to see those that had fallen take wing. They regrouped and flew up into the sky. Rotiaqua took his hand and poured her power into him. He felt an echo of the pools and knew she was accessing magic beyond herself and channeling it towards him.

  He reached out once more for Du'ala. "Come back."

  Du'ala dove for the roadway and flared to a landing before Zhimosom and Rotiaqua.

  "We need more power," Zhimosom said. "Do you know where the magic is that the monks told me about while I was in Mistwind? The plains magic?"

  "Get on," Du'ala said.

  Zhimosom scrambled to take a seat astride her thick neck. He felt the scales slide over each other silently as the dragon moved, making room for Rotiaqua. Once they were both seated, Du'ala lumbered for the edge and dropped off.

  Zhimosom's stomach lurched as they fell from the ledge. Du'ala spread her wings and caught the air. Suddenly Zhimosom was heavier than he'd ever been. It was almost impossible to keep his grasp on the dragon's neck as she swooped skyward.

  Zhimosom turned to see the rest of the dragons following behind.

  Plains

  The mountains below them dropped away as Du'ala flew high into the sky. Zhimosom found it hard to breathe.

  "Where are we going?" he gasped.

  "To the plains. There is magic there."

  "I don't know how to access it," Zhimosom said.

  "Learn." Du'ala turned her head back to look at Zhimosom and Rotiaqua. Zhimosom felt her reach out for his magic. He knew she was feeling his fear as he struggled to breathe.

  "Fear not," she said. “All will be well.”

  Zhimosom took little comfort in those words as the clouds closed in below him. All he could see was a rough sea of white that stretched out to the horizon. "I hope she knows where she's going," Zhimosom said to Rotiaqua.

  "I'm sure she's used to this." Rotiaqua held on to Zhimosom's waist a little tighter.

  Du'ala stopped beating her wings and glided. The air rushed past Zhimosom's face and now that the jerking of the mighty wings had ceased, the journey was almost pleasant. The air was crisp and clear above the clouds and it whistled past Zhimosom's ears. They descended towards the vast expanse of blinding white.

  At first, the clouds appeared as spotty patches of fog. They flew through them and emerged almost immediately back into the clear air, but the foggy patches grew more frequent and more dense as they descended. Finally, the fog engulfed them completely. It was cold, gray, and wet. The damp mist slapped their faces.

  They entered a dark patch of clouds and were instantly pelted by driving rain that stung Zhimosom's skin like a thousand needles. Lightning flashed across the sky blinding him and making the hairs on Zhimosom's arms stand on end. The air smelled strange, metallic and bitter. His eyes took a while to recover from the brightness of the lightning strike.

  And then it was over.

  The clouds broke out into gray skies once again and Zhimosom was the ground beneath them. It stretched out flat and empty for leagues. Nothing but plains grass grew there, short, stubby, brutish grass that only the hardiest of animals could survive on.

  Du'ala circled several times, each circuit taking them closer to the ground below. She flared her wings and Zhimosom felt that sinking feeling that was soon over as she touched down.

  "We are here," Du'ala said.

  Zhimosom climbed down from the dragon. He was unsteady on his feet and exhausted, but he felt the power that Du'ala said would be there. It was clear and pure, but spread thinly beneath him, deep within the earth. It was like the magic of the healing pools, the raw magic of the earth. He drank it in, refreshing his own magic before he set to work.

  Zhimosom examined the power that lay below the plains. There were concentrations of magic, nuggets, and pockets of strong power that stood out in sharp relief from the rest.

  He connected with one of these and used it to transform Du'ala. The mighty dragon shimmered and wavered. She compressed in size until the short squat woman once again stood before him. Her scales glimmered in the light, her eyes were those of the dragon.

  "The pull is gone," Du'ala said.

  "Will you be able to remain as you are?" Zhimosom asked. He worried that
she would transform back, but he hoped the connection to the local magic would be enough to hold her in her new form.

  "We are connected. Dragon fire links our magic to you. It is enough." She waved to the cloud of circling dragons. "Can you release them long enough to transform them?"

  Zhimosom looked at the swarm of red splotches circling overhead. There were a lot of dragons, but not as many as he would have expected if these were the sum total of all dragons remaining.

  "I can try." Zhimosom dug deep in the earth to access the magic there. He chose one of the dragons and called to it. It separated from the clan and landed before him, lowered its head and waited.

  Zhimosom found another concentration of magic far below his feet. He wrapped the transformation spell around the dragon and tied it to the power below. It shimmered and shrunk until a short squat man stood before Zhimosom. He looked much like Du'ala, short and powerful, with shimmering scales and the intense dragon eyes.

  "More." Du'ala pointed to the circling cloud.

  Zhimosom showed Rotiaqua how to transform the dragons. She caught on quickly and worked by his side as they continued throughout the day and well into the night. They released the dragons one by one, calling each one forward and transforming them. A crowd of short scaly folk grew out of their effort.

  "We're almost there," Rotiaqua said as the sky turned from deep dark navy to a light blue with wispy clouds. Only a few dragons remained. They had landed at sunset, and now lay curled up on the grass around the Wizard and Sorceress.

  When the last dragon came forward, Zhimosom transformed it and bound the spell. He felt the magic beneath him becoming more and more rare. He had to search farther to find untapped power, but the task was complete. The dragons had all been transformed, save Kel'hin.

  Zhimosom worried about Kel'hin. The dragon had flown off with Sulrad, and had not returned.

  Du'ala surveyed the crowd of short squat folk that the dragons had become and stepped up to Zhimosom.

  "Thank you. Now. Kill the Wizard who has made this necessary." She held her finger in front of his face. "After he is dead, then there will be no more killing. No taking power."