Wandmaker

by Ed Masessa

  “Coralis, where are you? Please tell me you’re not eating a bowl of Gretchen’s stew at the castle.”

  “Yes … Gretchen’s stew. What I wouldn’t give for a piping-hot bowl of it. No, unfortunately I am far from that. I am effectively following the trail of bread crumbs you’ve been dropping. And the fact that this connection is coming through loud and clear means we are fairly close—geographically, that is. But we have no time to waste, so listen carefully. I am on a train with Henry and his sister.”

  In concise terms, Coralis told Randall the essence of everything that had transpired in the past few weeks. Randall then reciprocated with his side of the story. When he got to the point of his capture, he could sense tension and worry. When he told of the night in the cabin, he could sense the old man’s fear. And when he detailed what he knew of Dai She’s evil plan, he felt Coralis recoil in horror.

  “What I don’t know is how they plan to do it.”

  “And what of Henry’s father?” Coralis asked.

  “I’d say he’s a very willing accomplice. But there are indications they don’t see eye to eye. There’s somewhat of a power struggle between them. And I sense something else about him. Something beneath the surface that is extremely powerful. If indeed he is Henry’s father, he is much more than he seems to be.”

  “Randall, I hate to ask this of you, but—”

  “No need to ask,” Randall interrupted. “I got myself into this mess and I plan to get myself out of it.”

  There was no reply from Coralis for several minutes, until finally: “I’m sorry, Randall. Sorry I didn’t listen to you. Sorry I … ”

  Randall could sense the connection weakening. “It’s okay.” Proving the old man wrong should have given him some measure of satisfaction. But it didn’t. And the apology was just making him uncomfortable. “Whatever is going to happen, it’s going to be soon. I’ll do my best to find out. Keep in touch, sir.”

  “Unfortunately, this is a one-time arrangement. The distance between us is great, and I have used the last of my crystals to make this link. It’s already starting to fade.”

  A long gap followed. The connection was gone … almost.

  “Be safe, my son.”

  The pressure eased in Randall’s mind. The connection had been broken. And now he was more focused than ever. There was a plan for mass destruction, and he was the only one in place to find out all the details.

  But there were also plans for him. He didn’t know what they were, but he knew they couldn’t be good.

  “Epifanio Corsini was not only an exceptional Wand Master, he was also an intuitive cartographer—a mapmaker, and a very good one. He was able to draw a map of the entire world in such detail and precision that it puts today’s maps to shame. And this at a time when most thought the world was flat! But what really made his map special was that it was alive. Everything he used to make this map, from the trees used for the papyrus to the water from which the ink was made, was highly specialized and seasoned with the expertise of a Wand Master.

  “And when the map was completed, when the final strokes had been laid to the paper, it took on a life of its own.”

  Henry and Brianna listened intently as Coralis spoke. The Wand Master had returned to their small room looking pale and grave. They understood why as he added, “I’ve just learned the map has fallen into evil hands.”

  “Why even make such a thing if it’s so dangerous?” Brianna asked.

  “Corsini never imagined it would be used as a weapon,” Coralis answered. “Along with the map, he developed an extraordinary healing wand—the one-of-a-kind Coisa Wand. A simple touch of the wand to the affected area of the map could prevent an earthquake, stop an avalanche, put a quick end to a forest fire. It was an extraordinary thing.

  “Following Corsini’s death, the map and wand ended up in my care. They should have been safe. But in 1185, the castle came under siege by members of the Mongol horde. Do you know the name Genghis Khan?”

  Henry perked up. He’d encountered the name in the course of his translation research. “He was a ruthless conqueror. His army conquered all of Asia and kept going west, as far as the Khwarezmid Empire—modern-day Iran.”

  Brianna made a theatrical snoring noise.

  Coralis nodded. “An impressive force of battle-seasoned warriors, to be sure, but they should have been no match for a castle full of Wandmakers. Yet by the end of it, twelve Wand Masters had lost their lives. And the Corsini Mappaemundi had been stolen.”

  “How?” Henry asked.

  “Treachery!” Coralis thundered. “My own apprentice—a brilliant young man named Malachai—was secretly in league with Genghis Khan, and had lured a sizable portion of the man’s forces to the castle with the promise of riches.

  “Malachai left with the map and the wand, but he never returned to Khan—and neither did the small army that helped him. He killed every last one of those men on a narrow mountain pass, where he used the map to cause a landslide that buried them alive.

  “And thus was Corsini’s legacy tainted for all time. The map was eventually reclaimed, but we kept it hidden. Apparently, Malachai’s wicked spawn, Dai She, has found it. And it now falls to us to stop him.”

  An uneasy silence settled over the cabin. Finally Brianna spoke. “Are you scared, Henry?” she asked softly.

  Henry fidgeted. The answer was obviously YES. But if he were to admit it in Coralis’s presence, would he think him a coward? Would Coralis have second thoughts about taking him any farther on their quest? Or possibly even abandon him at the train station?

  “I don’t know about Henry, but I certainly am,” Coralis said. Brianna curled onto his lap. “Are you scared, Brianna?”

  “Yes,” she answered quickly.

  “That makes two out of three. Will you make it unanimous, Henry?”

  He was making the choice too easy. Henry couldn’t help but feel as if he were walking into a trap. “Yes,” he finally admitted.

  “Good! I would hate to be traveling with companions who had no common sense.” Coralis reached into his robe and took out a packet of M&M’s, offering some to Henry and his sister. “It’s good to be afraid. Fear will sharpen our senses, but we cannot allow it to cloud our judgment.”

  “Is that some kind of riddle?” Brianna asked, annoyed.

  “No, not a riddle. I only mean that fear can be a good thing in situations like this, but only if we use it to focus on the task at hand. If we allow fear to overwhelm us, it will give the advantage to our enemy because our decisions will become irrational. If we understand our fear, we can control it.” He hesitated for a moment. “I have never entered a battle without being afraid. And I almost always won.”

  “What?!” Brianna squeaked loudly. “Almost always? What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Shush!” Henry warned.

  “No! No shushing. He’s saying we could lose this battle. He’s saying we could die!”

  “What I’m saying is that if we all keep our wits about us, we have a much better chance of winning. Have you ever played sports, Henry?”

  The two moaned as if in pain. “Please don’t tell us we need Henry’s baseball skills to win.” Brianna buried her face in her paws.

  “Hmmm … perhaps that’s a bad example.” Coralis thought for a minute. “Have you ever been bullied?”

  Brianna groaned again. “Just kill me now.”

  Henry glared at Coralis. If he was trying to make him feel bad, he was doing a good job of it. “Of course I’ve been bullied! Look at me. I’m a nerd, Coralis! It’s not cool to be a nerd!”

  “Nerd?” Coralis said calmly. “Because you apply your brain over brawn? Because you choose to seek education and information over athletics and video games? Nonsense. Do you think the star quarterback can save the world by pitching a no-hitter?” Henry started to correct him but saw the old man smile. “I was never very good at sports trivia. But I am very good at spotting character, potential, and intelligence. These are th
e things that make a winner. These are the things that have helped mankind to survive. And these,” he said directly to Henry, “are the things that you possess in abundance. Be afraid, Henry. But always be in control.”

  The train began braking as it approached the Winslow station. They all turned their attention to the window, each immersed in their own private thoughts about what awaited them.

  “We will win this battle, children.”

  Henry thought of a phrase he had heard somewhere. They won the battle but lost the war. What was Coralis not telling them?

  “Patience, Henry.” Coralis spoke silently into his mind. “It will become clear all too soon.”

  The train shuddered to a stop. Through the window, they could see a lone figure seated on a low brick wall. The children stared at her.

  “Grandma?”

  “Hello, Henry!” She hugged him tightly. “My, how you’ve grown.”

  This was the same old woman they had seen in their driveway. The one their mother called Mom.

  She hadn’t changed since they’d seen her that day. Tan, wrinkled face, warm brown eyes. Salt-and-pepper hair pulled back into a tight bun. The strength of her hug was much greater than Henry expected from her small, slender frame.

  “Coralis.” She released Henry and shook his hand vigorously. “I never thought I’d actually get to meet you. It is an honor, sir.”

  Coralis winced from her grip. Henry chuckled. “A pleasure to meet you, madam. But I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage.”

  “I am Henry’s grandmother, Gailene Granoble. I was sent to pick you up.” She looked past him at the few passengers departing from the train. “But where is Brianna?”

  A blue nose poked out from Coralis’s coat pocket. “Hello, Grandma,” Brianna said timidly.

  “Oh my.” Gailene blinked several times, flustered. But more surprisingly, she rubbed her hand briskly over her own hair, the spitting image of Henry. “Well then. I … um … perhaps we should go.” She grabbed Henry’s backpack and strode across a set of train tracks, disappearing behind the well-manicured landscaping on her way to the parking lot.

  “So much for grandmotherly love,” said Brianna.

  Coralis tapped her lightly on the head. “I believe she thought she was surprising us, when clearly the surprise was on her.” He laughed.

  She giggled. “It was kinda funny.”

  Henry smiled, too, but for a different reason.

  Grandma Gailene led them all to a familiar van, white with GRANOBLE’S GRANARY printed in big green letters.

  They all climbed in, Henry taking Brianna in the back with him.

  “You kids have never been out here before, though goodness knows I’ve begged your mother to bring you. Just wait till you see the stars! Billions of them. It’s going to make you feel very small.”

  She started the van and pulled onto the main road. “The train station is beautiful, isn’t it?” she said, apparently recovering from the shock of seeing Brianna. “There’s even a small bed-and-breakfast attached. The only passengers arrive on the Southwest Chief. But more than one hundred freight trains a day roll through here. Back in the old days, the Chief would carry movie stars out here from Hollywood. They made a lot of Westerns on the reservation. I even got to meet John Wayne!” Her eyes lit up and her face beamed with pride as she looked at Henry in the rearview mirror.

  Clearly, he was supposed to be impressed. But he racked his brain and came up empty, finally shrugging his shoulders.

  Coralis chuckled. “I’m afraid they are from a different generation.”

  “I guess you’re right,” she said sulkily. “But you remember the Duke, don’t you?”

  Coralis twisted uncomfortably in his seat. “The duke … ah! The Duke of Devonshire!”

  She sighed. “Maybe we should talk about something else.”

  There wasn’t much in the town of Winslow for Henry to see, except for a statue of a man standing on a corner. The window behind him had an image of a woman in a pickup truck. People were taking pictures, and Grandma Gailene explained that the sculpture and picture were a scene from a well-known song.

  Once they turned left to head north on State Route 87, there was even less. But in his eyes, it was the most beautiful land he’d ever seen. The sun was setting on one horizon while the moon was rising on the other. Large boulders that dwarfed the van cast shadows in abstract shapes that stretched as the sun dipped lower.

  Suddenly he felt an overpowering urge to look in the opposite direction. Staring at the moon made a chill run down his spine. He absentmindedly rubbed a hand through his hair.

  Brianna picked up on it. “What’s wrong, Henry?”

  “It’s hard to say.” He kept his voice down. “It’s almost like something is pulling at me. It’s like a whisper in my mind telling me to do bad things.”

  “Well, don’t listen to it.” Brianna softened her voice, musical tones woven into her words. “You must think of Coralis and how important it is to succeed in our mission, whatever it may be. Think of Mom, Henry. Ignore the voice. Push it away!”

  As she spoke, Henry calmed down. He tenderly scratched Brianna’s head. “Thanks. I’m okay now.” But when he looked up, the two adults were looking back at him.

  Coralis held the ring on his finger up for all to see. The black swirl had clouded the entire crystal. It pulsed with evil energy. “We have no time to waste.”

  A short while later, Grandma Gailene needed what she called a “pit stop for her aging kidneys.” She pulled over at a small roadside shack where tourists bought souvenir pottery. The others piled out of the van to stretch their legs.

  “How are you holding up, Henry?” Coralis asked.

  “I’m okay now.” He relaxed noticeably as he realized it was the truth. Whatever had come over him had not resurfaced. He strolled past the cars to watch a group of old men playing cards in front of the shack.

  Coralis stayed near the van and gazed at the rising moon. “Young lady, I don’t know where you learned to use Voice, but you are as natural with the gift as I have ever seen—and I’ve seen many. You may not understand this now, but your transformation, however uncomfortable, may turn out to be fortuitous. I think you should stay with Henry at all times from now on.

  “As I feared, I was not able to extract all of the evil from the moonbeams that entered your brother. Your talent may be needed again—and soon. So please remain alert for any signs that he might be slipping.”

  She fluffed up her fur with pride. “Well, if somebody has to do it, it might as well be me.”

  The road twisted and turned. Grandma explained that they were driving through the Hopi Indian reservation as they passed by the village of Old Oraibi. “How long have you lived out here?” Henry asked.

  “All my life,” she answered proudly. “Many Navajo children, like your mother, think the grass is greener in the outside world. They leave, but they take their heritage with them. And sometimes they come back.”

  “Mom was born here?” the children asked together.

  “My goodness. Has she told you children nothing?” She shook her head sadly. “Yes, she was born and raised on the Navajo reservation. But she went to study at the university in Flagstaff. That’s where she met your father.” Her disdain was evident. “I don’t know what came over her. I assumed it was hormones.” She smiled sadly. “Your father was quite the charmer.”

  Coralis frowned. “But it wasn’t anything as simple as hormones, was it?”

  “No.” Grandma’s back stiffened. “Lois—your mother—has a gift.” Henry glanced at his sister. “Even as a child, she was supernaturally perceptive. It was as if she could sense which way the wind would blow. I don’t think it was an accident that she met your father. I suspect she knew about his Wandmakers’ Guild lineage before he told her about it. But she was surprised when he revealed a dark truth he kept tucked away in his heart. He confessed he felt an unnatural craving for power. She was able to persuade him not to give in to hi
s darker nature. But the temptation would always be there. And she swore never to leave his side.”

  “Wow,” Henry said, unsure how to process that information. His parents’ lives were clearly far more complicated than he’d ever imagined.

  Grandma carefully navigated the dark road. She gripped the steering wheel tightly. “Your parents loved each other very much. And though they moved far away, Lois kept in touch with frequent letters. She wanted a ‘normal’ life for them—for you.” She took a deep calming breath and exhaled slowly. “Then one day the letters stopped coming. I could sense something was not right, so I drove several thousand miles to check on her.

  “It was not a pleasant reunion. She would not even allow me into your home. She said I could ruin everything just by being there. When I left, I was so worried about her … about you.” She stopped and took another deep breath.

  “But she let me know that everything was under control. That I should go back to the reservation and wait. Waiting can be difficult—especially when you don’t know why.” She tapped the brake suddenly as a large animal scampered across the road. “Coyote. A good sign.”

  Streetlights appeared in the distance. A road sign read TUBA CITY, HOME OF THE WARRIORS. They turned right at an intersection, passing a supermarket and a fast-food restaurant. “Let’s stop for a snack,” she said in an attempt to brighten the mood. “I love Tater Tots with cheese and chili.”

  “Ah, health food,” Coralis said sarcastically.

  “As vices go, Tater Tots isn’t so bad.” She laughed and broke some of the tension. “Besides, there isn’t much between here and Kayenta and it’s getting late. Can you eat Tater Tots, young lady?”

  Brianna’s nose twitched excitedly as she read the menu. “Only if I wash them down with a chocolate shake!”

  “Yes,” said Coralis hungrily. “A chocolate shake will improve any situation.”