The Wilder (The Trouble with Magic Book 1)

by Beach, B. J.

  D’ta took his outstretched hand in both of her slender ones and gave him a warm smile. “Somehow I didn’t expect you to be overwhelmed.”

  She looked across to Mordas and Kimi. “Please, I sense your fear and your regret at not having paid more attention to me, but you were not to know. In this place and time I hope you will treat me as simply a friend and colleague with important work to do. All I ask is that you will assist me in this to the best of your ability, and treat me as you would any other friend. However, if at any time you should feel an irrepressible desire to worship me, I have a delightful little temple just off the Great Market. I would be happy to meet you there. Until then we have things to do, but I’m sure that it can wait a few moments longer while we have a nice refreshing cup of tea. Shall we all sit down?”

  * * *

  Karryl looked dubious as he peered into the cupboard. “You want me to take the bag out?”

  Symon placed a reassuring hand on his apprentice’s arm. “I doubt whether any other of us would be allowed to at this stage. Mordas and I have removed the wards which we placed on it, and I have been assured that this task is yours, and yours alone.”

  “Well, if you say so, but if it makes me feel sick again, I’m having nothing more to do with it.”

  Detelia’s voice was firm. “Take the bag out, Karryl. It will not make you feel sick. You are the one who found the bag at the cottage, and you are meant to do this.” She smiled and her tone softened. “At the risk of seeming overly dramatic, if you don’t do this now, the lives of thousands of people, and the world as you know it, could be at risk.”

  Karryl looked at the four of them in turn, then grinned. “Well then, why didn’t you say so?”

  Symon threw his hands up in mock despair. “Can’t this boy take anything seriously?”

  Mordas and Detelia chuckled together. “He’ll have plenty of time to be serious later.” said Mordas.

  “To be honest, I find his irreverence somewhat refreshing.” replied D’ta.

  They lapsed into a breath-holding silence as Karryl reached up into the little cupboard. His fingers entered the narrow, pale blue nimbus which still surrounded the bag, and he felt the now familiar prickling on his skin. This time it seemed stronger. Undeterred, he grasped the bag firmly in both hands, lifted it down and carried it slowly to the table. He placed it on the polished wooden surface, the blue glow gradually diminishing, before disappearing entirely, leaving the small company looking at a very ordinary, plain brown leather bag.

  Karryl gave it a gentle prod. “Shall I open it?”

  Symon sighed “Please do!” his long-suffering expression even coaxing a tiny smile from the normally unsmiling Kimi.

  Karryl’s long fingers quickly teased apart the knot in the leather draw-string. Pulling open the neck of the bag, he peered inside. “It’s a book!”

  The others leaned forward for a closer look, as Karryl slid his hand inside the bag and took out the book, placing it on the table beside the bag. It was a thick, blocky sort of volume, the almost square pages bound in some kind of soft black leather.

  Karryl ran his fingers over the crinkled surface. “Is this calf-skin?”

  Bending closer, Symon peered at it while he fumbled in the deep pocket of his robe. He drew out a small lens on a long brass handle, and held it for a few moments over a small area of the book’s cover.

  Then he stood bolt upright, his eyes wide with astonishment. “Good grief !”

  Kimi also leaned closer, risking a tentative stroke of his finger over the black cover of the book, before standing back. His dark eyes locked on Symon’s grey ones.

  Magician and ranger spoke as one. “Grelfon skin?”

  Karryl’s face screwed up in perplexity. “Doesn’t that make this very old?”

  Symon nodded, and steepled his fingers under his chin. “It does indeed. And if you are what I have suspected for some time, then you should be able to read what is contained within it.” The magician patted his palms together, a flush of suppressed excitement diffusing his round face. “To think that this would occur in my lifetime! Open the book Karryl! We’ll discuss its provenance later.”

  Karryl made to pick up the book, then deciding against it, took a step back and frowned at Symon. “What do you mean, ‘if I am what you have suspected’? Has this got something to do with that book I saw in the Museum, with the drawings in it, about the archaeological dig in the ancient city?”

  “It does indeed, and a lot more besides. I was always of the opinion that there was more to it than just an ancient legend. So, if you would like to make yourselves comfortable, I will relate it to you.”

  Symon seated himself at the end of the table. Detelia and Karryl sat side by side to his left, and Mordas and Kimi sat to his right.

  Resting his elbows on the table and steepling his fingers, Symon began. “As you all well know, the foundations of this fair city of Vellethen are quite ancient, although in historical terms the city itself is of far more modern construction. It is said that most of the old city was razed to the ground in a massive conflagration, the result of a great magical war almost a thousand years ago. The details have now passed into the realms of legend.”

  Karryl’s eyes widened as a thought struck him. “Was that when there were Grelfons still alive?”

  Kimi made a sharp hissing noise through his teeth, and Detelia’s lips moved silently, while Mordas gave Karryl a dark look of disapproval.

  He raised his hands, perplexed. “What did I say?”

  Symon flicked a dismissive finger, and gave Mordas and Kimi a withering glance. “It is of no matter now. May I continue?” Looking a little shamefaced, the others nodded.

  The little magician stood up and began slowly pacing the room. “According to the legend, there was a great book written by an extremely wise, accomplished and powerful mage, who was accorded the title Mage-Prime. Not only was he a witness to the war, it is said that only when he was forced to bring his full strength and skill to bear, was the war, which had raged for many long days, brought to a conclusion.

  “The Mage-Prime is believed to have been the only surviving magician of the dozens who originally participated. When peace was restored, he is said to have written a great book. This book is purported to contain an eye-witness account, along with details of many of the powerful and complex spells he employed. It was also said to be magical, protected by powerful wardings, and could only be located and read by another Mage-Prime.

  “However, during the hundreds of years that have passed since the war ended, none has ever appeared. Consequently, the Mage-Prime, both past and future, has also become a creature of legend.”

  Karryl reached out and wistfully ran a finger over the cover of the book. “Well, this isn’t it then, is it?”

  Symon inclined his head. “What makes you say that?”

  “Well, there’s no Mage-Primes here, are there? So, it stands to reason that this can’t be the great book of the legend because I…unless…” His face paled and he looked suddenly stricken. “You’re not thinking it’s me, are you? It can’t be! I’m not old enough. I don’t have the kind of knowledge and power that someone like that would have!”

  From under his eyebrows Symon looked hard at his slightly hysterical apprentice. “That remains to be seen. However, I firmly believe that you are destined to be the legendary second Mage-Prime, and that some power has chosen you, and given you time to prepare for your task.”

  Karryl gulped. “What task?”

  Symon tapped the side of his nose. “That also remains to be seen.”

  Karryl was about to protest further, when Detelia placed her slender hand gently on his arm. “I know what you are thinking Karryl, and I appreciate how you must be feeling at this moment, but everything Symon has said is essentially true. That is why you have been called here. It is now our task to assist you in every way we can. We were brought together for the first time by your apparent accident, and…”

  “Apparent? It
was an accident! I lost my footing on that stepping stone! “

  Detelia smiled, and looked in turn at Symon, Mordas and Kimi, who each gave an almost imperceptible nod before she continued. “I am not at liberty to disclose the reason behind it, but some power beyond your comprehension has decided that you are destined to be the long awaited Mage-Prime. Now the time has come to take the first steps towards the fulfilment of this particular legend, and the task that lies before you.”

  Karryl’s brow furrowed as he stuck his hands into his hair. “Oh Gods!”

  Detelia gave him an old-fashioned look. “Well, I’m still here. Will I do?”

  Karryl looked baffled and removed his hands from his hair. “What? Oh! Yes, I see what you mean. Sorry, I didn’t think.”

  Symon cleared his throat. “Well, you can have all the thinking time you need later, but I’m sure that if you’ll listen to the rest of the story, it will help you to think more clearly and objectively. It will also help to refresh everyone else’s minds, mine included.”

  Karryl slumped in his chair and sighed heavily. “There’s nothing I can do to stop this is there?”

  Mordas leaned towards him. “Why would you want to?”

  Karryl turned and looked over at the little magician. “Well, for a start, I can’t see what made Master Symon think it was me, and by what he’s been saying it seems that he’s suspected it for quite some time.”

  Symon returned his look with a knowing wink. “That is true, and to put your mind at rest I will give you a little demonstration of how I knew, or at least, first suspected it.” He patted his palms together with anticipation as he resumed his seat and looked along the table. “Friend Kimi, I would ask that you assist me with this.”

  The wiry Ingali’s dark eyes sparkled, and he nodded in tacit agreement. Tapping his folded hands against his chin for a moment, Symon turned to Karryl with a little smile. “Would you recite the fourteenth and fifteenth verses of the Saga of Sair the Magnificent, in Ancient Ingalian, please.”

  Kimi nodded his tattooed head in approval. Closing his eyes, he sat back to listen. He knew the Saga well, and therefore understood the reason behind Symon’s choice. Those two particular verses were the longest and most difficult of the entire Saga, containing as they did, unusual colloquial phrases and a number of difficult to pronounce names.

  After a moment’s hesitation Karryl’s expression became distant, and he began to speak. The little group listened with rapt attention as the ancient dialect flowed unerringly from his lips. For many minutes no other sound broke the silence of the room as he recited the stirring verses, his stresses and accent breathing life into the revered words of the long dead poet.

  The last word spoken, the silence continued.

  An emotional snuffle from Kimi caused all heads to turn in his direction. Attempting to disguise his temporary loss of composure with a little cough, Kimi nodded at Symon. “He has learned well.” He looked across at Karryl who appeared slightly bemused. “You spoke like true Ingali prince. My spirit burned within me to hear those words again. I make promise to you. When time is right you will return with me to my people. They will gather round to hear you recite Saga of Sairek-budaki-ko. Your name will have great honour.”

  Karryl flushed at this unexpected accolade. “Thank you. But what have I just proved, apart from the fact that I’ve got a good memory?”

  Symon raised his hands in undisguised delight. “That’s just it! The Mage-Prime will have the astounding ability to remember every word or piece of information he has ever read or been subjected to, and have total recall. You have just demonstrated that! We could probably go on all night, and whatever piece of information I asked you for, that I know you have read or heard at least once, you would be able to furnish it.”

  Karryl’s thoughts whirled, and he looked askance at the happy magician. “That sounds as if I have an awful lot of studying to do before I’m ready for this ‘task’ doesn’t it?”

  Symon’s smile verged on the beatific. “Indeed you do, but you know now that we will be supporting you and helping you every step of the way. Kimi will guide you in ancient languages and the Rhamnic discipline, as well as the unique magic of the Ingali. Mordas will take you through anatomy, medicine and healing spells, while I of course, will take you as far as I can in the Talmion discipline, as well as astronomy, herb lore and mathematics.”

  Karryl looked as if he were about to burst. He turned sideways, just in time to see an undecipherable look pass between Detelia and his master. “What about Detelia?”

  Symon’s grin was wicked. “Our lovely goddess will teach you the Altic and Vedric disciplines. She will also fill in any gaps we may have left, as well as teaching you to develop and strengthen your powers, and make sure you come to no harm.”

  Karryl looked a little uncomfortable and began to examine a fingernail. His voice mumbled its way off the surface of the table. “You said that we shouldn’t study Vedric. You said you loathed it.”

  “And so I do. Unfortunately, I believe it has now become a necessary evil. That is why Detelia will be instructing you. She has the means to control its nasty side if it should get away from you at any time. As for Altic, that’s well within your scope. It’s very similar to Talmion, only at lower temperatures. You’ll find out what I mean in time. Talking about time, let me continue with what I started. It will soon be dawn and you good people must be tired.”

  Detelia stood up and moved round the table to whisper in Symon’s ear. He looked up at her over his shoulder, a slight frown on his face. “Do you think that’s a good idea?” She gave an emphatic nod. “Oh well. Alright then. I’ll go and make some fresh tea.”

  As his master scurried off into the kitchen, Karryl briefly felt the fine dark hairs on his forearms stand on end. He looked a question at Detelia as she sat back down beside him, but she simply gave him a secretive smile, and a little shake of her head. It was only when he glanced towards the window, that he realised what was going on. This was the second time he had seen the moon rise that night.

  CHAPTER THIRTYEIGHT

  When everyone had refreshed themselves with sandwiches, and mugs of Symon’s fruit and herb tea, the magician readied himself to continue with his potted history.

  He was put back on track by another question from Karryl’s perpetually enquiring mind. “Why was your name mentioned in that book that’s in the Museum?”

  The magician raised a forefinger in acknowledgement. “Ah! Yes, I was just about to mention that. Could you read it?”

  “No. I managed to make out your name a couple of times, but it was written in a strange language, although I thought some of the words seemed sort of familiar.”

  Symon nodded as if that was the answer he had expected. “They probably would be. The book is written in Old Telorian, the root of our own Albitan language. My name is in there because I was instrumental in making the one major discovery the various digs managed to achieve. Did you like the drawings?”

  “What I could see of them. They were rather small, and it was hard to see with that glass over them. Were they drawings of what you discovered?”

  “Indeed they were.”

  Seeing that he once again had everyone’s undivided attention, Symon continued. “It used to be quite a regular thing for the Archaeologist-Mages from the University to organise digs in the foundations of the old city. Anything found among the burned and melted remains might help shed some light on those long ago events. For many years nothing was ever found, but just after the beginning of the last century, one singular discovery was made. After it was unearthed and carefully cleaned, it turned out to be a rather heavy medallion on a broken chain.”

  His face alight with interest, Karryl leaned forward, his hands clasped round his tea mug. “How did you find it?”

  Symon interlocked his fingers, and looked round the table at each face in turn. “You may find this hard to believe, but I sensed it. I think I was meant to find it. If anyone else had done so, it
would probably have been lost for all time or fallen into the wrong hands. I will even go so far as to say that the finding of that artefact was the first step towards what is happening today.”

  As Symon was drawing breath, Karryl slipped in another question. “Was it gold?”

  Unperturbed by the interruption, Symon carried smoothly on. “It appeared to be at first, but when the metallurgists attempted to investigate it further, it proved to be of an unknown metal which defied all attempts to cut it. They were unable to even scratch its surface.”

  Sensing another question coming, he hurried on. “However, the most amazing and perplexing thing was, although it bore no apparent markings so was to all intents and purposes perfectly plain, when viewed in moonlight, which, by the way was purely a chance discovery, symbols could be seen on its apparently smooth surface; five on one side and four on the other. Language experts, cryptologists, sages and mages spent lifetimes attempting to decipher the symbols, but all to no avail.”

  He held up an admonishing finger to Karryl, who was beginning to wriggle in his impatience to ask another question. Mordas gave him the look she saved for naughty boys.

  Symon continued. “Eventually, due to the significant number of nine symbols that it bore, fears rose that the medallion may harbour magical properties which, if inadvertently unleashed, could prove to be uncontrollable. Therefore the strange artefact was placed in a lead lined casket and locked away in the dark and musty depths of the City Museum’s storage facility. To the best of my knowledge, it is still there. Furthermore, I am now inclined to believe this book and the medallion belong together. That is not a problem. Officially, the artefact is mine. I simply have to go and request it.”

  For a few moments the little group sipped at their tea and gazed at the black covered book in silent contemplation.

  As was to be expected, it was Karryl who broke the silence. “Does this mean there’s going to be another war, then?”

  Symon placed his almost empty mug slowly and deliberately on the table. “Not necessarily. You can rest assured however, that sometime in the future, depending on how the situation evolves, something is going to occur which will require no lesser talent than a Mage-Prime.”