The Weaving of Wells (Osric's Wand, Book Four)

by Jack D. Albrecht Jr.

  “Gus, I…”

  “Let’s ignore the fact that nothing like this has ever been conceived before. Let’s just ignore the fact that no one in the history of Archana has ever attempted to use a fraction of the power you want to tap into and survived. Let’s also ignore the fact that what you are suggesting would be a hundredfold greater than the powerlock you experienced with two wands!”

  “How do we know that?”

  “What? Are you as foolish as I thought you were when you refused to believe me about that wand I made? I was right then too, by the way. I’m great, but I didn’t make the prophecy wand. I know my limits, and you don’t!”

  “Gus, how do we know that nothing like this has ever been conceived of before? The wells are evidence that we know next to nothing about magic, even with everything we have discovered. We don’t know that no one has ever used this much power before, because we can’t even begin to understand what it took to create the Well of Strands. We don’t know what I can handle either, because we don’t fully understand how my power growth works. For all we know, I can channel a thousand times the magic in that powerlock, but the point is we don’t know.” Osric didn’t allow Gus to interrupt him. “What we do know is that Dredek is attempting to raise his people from the dead by using the greatest amplifier of magical power that exists in this world. What we know is that if we don’t find a way to combat him with at least as much power as he has access to then he will succeed, and we cannot even begin to contemplate what the consequences will be. What we know—what I know—is that if we don’t do this it will be our fault because we didn’t try, and if it kills me then you will take up the reigns of the Aranthians and keep working to make this world a safe place, a good place, for our people, for all people.”

  “And you expect us to help you do this?” Gus was still yelling, but his ear had stopped twitching.

  “Yes Gus. I expect you to help me—you and many others—because I can’t do this by myself. You may not have made the wand of the prophecy, but you have been making magnificent wands all of your life. There are very few people in this world who can do at all what you do effortlessly, and I need that talent on my team, because you are right that we don’t really know what we are getting ourselves into. I might be the one who will be channeling the power when we’re done, but we have to pull this off first, and I think with your help we can do it. What do you say?”

  “Stop trying to flatter me into agreeing to this crazy scheme and tell me exactly what your plan is.”

  Osric pointed back at the maps spread out across his desk. He indicated each of the circles of light scribbled on the parchment.

  “Each of these is a potential site for a well. We need to confirm which of these areas have ports and which don’t, because that will determine if the terrain can be altered without causing significant risk of a rupture in the stone.” Next he pointed to the lines drawn in varying directions between the circles. “These are the segments with the highest concentration of strands near enough to the surface. We need to connect as many of these areas as possible, while isolating the well in Angmar if we can. Once the net of strands is complete, I should be able to utilize all of the wells by accessing only one of them. From that well, I will have more power than Dredek has.”

  “So we need to get someone to each of these locations. But once we identify the feasible sites, how will we connect the strands?” Eublin was standing on his chair to better see the charts on the desk.

  “Well, with the help of the Earth Elementalists, we will align the stone that channels the most strands between the sites. We need to make sure there is no interruption with less productive stone, water, or other substances that interfere with the density of the strands. To avoid unforeseen consequences, we need to change the ground as little as possible but just enough that we have a continuous system of high-density strand flow connecting all of the wells. The wells themselves should serve as an outlet for any power or pressure that otherwise might cause an explosion, eruption, or other complication. Can you help me recruit the best Elementalists and Wand-Makers for the job? I want to have it done today.”

  “I was wrong. You aren’t just going crazy; you have long since arrived there. This whole idea is absurd,” Gus said, pacing back and forth along the edge of the map on top of the desk. He mumbled to himself while Eublin leaned forward on his chair to scrutinize the charts closer and Bridgett’s expression slowly grew less worried and more angry. Gus’s eyes darted back and forth, searching over the map as he moved. Then, Gus suddenly stopped pacing and threw his paws in the air, looking up at Osric with narrowed eyes, “But I can see that you are going to attempt it with or without my help, so the least I can do is try to keep you from killing yourself. I can’t do that if I am not with you, so I will help. Tell me how many Elementalists you think you can gather, and I will seek out as many with the sight for strands.”

  “Look at the charts,” said Osric. “These, the most feasible and most necessary wells, are the ones I want to focus on. We will need at least two dozen of each to link the twelve wells that I believe I can link. If we can come up with more, there are a few more potential sites here and here.” Osric pointed at two outlying circles on the map.

  “Where will you be? Where will the primary well of your system be?” Bridgett finally spoke from across the room, and her voice was even and low. She approached the desk, looking only at the maps rather than at Osric. He watched her for a moment, and then he placed his finger on the map.

  “Here, in the elven ruins by Braya. It has the highest concentration of strands, and it is located closest to Angmar. It’s the best location.”

  Bridgett nodded, then turned to Gus.

  “Then that is where we shall be. Go find twenty-two more Wand-Makers, Gus.”

  Osric rose from his chair. “Bridgett—”

  “Gus and I will be at your side,” she cut him off before he could protest. “We will help you with the strands while you direct what must be done with the stone.”

  “I don’t know what will happen. What if—”

  “Osric, you don’t know what will happen. None of us do. You can’t protect me, and I can’t protect you. Come what may, I will be by your side.” Bridgett’s voice never quavered and her hands were not trembling as her anger carried the words from her throat. “If you succeed, it will be with me at your side. If you fail, we fail.” She stared up at him with only a hint of a smile and fear in her eyes. “Don’t fail.”

  Gus scampered from the room, turning right and heading for the stairs that would take him to the Wand-Maker’s workshops on a lower floor of the barracks. Though many of the Aranthians had been spending extra time in the arena training in weapons and combat, he hoped to find at least half of the crew he needed for Osric. The wizards who had been studying and perfecting the crafts of wand-making, amulet construction, and charms all had the ability to see and manipulate the strands, and Gus had personally helped recruit many of the best with the gift on Archana. He would need more, but by the end of the day he would find the people that Osric needed, no matter what it took. He would even be willing to persuade Eni to help them if he had to, even though his rival Wand-Maker had not been Trusted into the Aranthians. Osric believed that this was the only way, and Gus had a gnawing feeling that they were quickly running out of time.

  Bridgett continued to stand against the wall, silently watching Osric sort through that myriad of emotions that he never had to voice because she could feel each one acutely as her own. She didn’t know when it had happened exactly, but she could no longer distinguish between his feelings and hers. When he laughed, she felt joy. When he worried, she became slightly nauseated. When he was scared, her heart raced and it was difficult to breathe. Her Empath ability had either strengthened as she acquired some of his gifts, or he had become so much a part of her that she couldn’t tell where she ended and he began. His heart-wrenching fear that she would be killed if she was with him when he tried to channel more power than he
could logically contemplate was crushing her chest too. Her anger that had kept her voice steady when she thought she might fall apart was a burning rage that he would risk something so likely to kill him. She was furious that he had left her head spinning and heart fluttering with a kiss on her lips in her chambers, dancing around in his excitement about his new discovery, just to find out that his discovery would allow for such a dangerous endeavor. He hadn’t even intended to tell her what he was planning, as far as she knew, because he had run from her rooms with a smile on his face and left her dizzy with happiness. She had wanted to know more about what had inspired him to wake her, and now all she wanted to do was set the maps on fire and pretend that Dredek didn’t exist.

  But pretending that he didn’t exist wouldn’t make him go away. It wouldn’t keep him from slaughtering the irua people because he wanted to use the Well of Strands to raise his people from the dead. It wouldn’t keep Osric from taking extreme measures to stop Dredek either. So, Bridgett put all of her effort into shutting down her gift, into blocking out Osric’s fear in an attempt to shut out her own. She stood against the wall, willing herself not to feel, because she was going to do everything she could to make sure that Osric was successful. Either way, she would be there.

  * * *

  The ruins were a forest of white stone, crumbling and quiet in the early morning sunlight. They rose up out of the forest like ancient trees, overgrown with moss and vines, covered in leaves and in several places soil. Trees had grown up between the stones, pushing aside large sections of the roads and walls and completely toppling some of the structures. Osric and his companions picked their way carefully through the remains of what were once grand, beautiful buildings. There was still evidence of intricate carvings and graceful arches on most of the walls and entranceways. The ceilings had collapsed on many of the larger structures, but it was clear that most of the smaller enclosures were designed with no roof, or perhaps they were made of a material that had disintegrated over time. The tropical region was subject to an immense amount of sunlight and rain almost year-round, and fibrous materials such as cloth or thatching would not remain long once the city was abandoned.

  Osric halted their progress frequently to inspect the area using the Stone-Sight to determine the greatest concentrations of strands in the stone far beneath their feet. Their path seemed sporadic to Aridis, who had roamed these ruins for longer than Osric had been alive, but he trusted that they would end up where they needed to be. He had told Osric that he could show him where the area with the greatest power amplification effects was located, but he had no way of knowing if there were factors other than a well contributing to the strength of his Obcasior ability in various places. When Aridis had heard that Osric was planning to execute the finale of his plan from the well in the old elven ruins, he had finally understood why he had been able to see so much of the future’s potential in these crumbling stones. He had never known why he was drawn to the ruins to practice his gift, but the presence of a smaller version of the Well of Strands would explain it. He suspected they would eventually find their way to the dome where he had read the stones so many times, but he had no idea if a structure like the one Bridgett had described might lie below the stone floor.

  Aridis was correct in his assumptions about their destination, and he ran his hand along the familiar curve of the stone wall that was still standing in the structure. Much of the dome had collapsed long before he had first seen the ruins, but enough of the building was intact for him to identify its likely purpose. Openings in the stone were perfectly aligned with certain stars and with the sun and moon on days significant to the elves, and he had always suspected that the structure was originally constructed as a site for rituals and specific spells related to the seasons and celebrations. Knowing that a well was somewhere nearby didn’t change Aridis’s opinion, but it did make him wonder if it also hid the power source somewhere beneath them. In all of the years that he had lived near the ruins, Aridis had never attempted to excavate the ruins and see if the structures continued below ground. It was possible that a network of tunnels or preserved rooms with elven artifacts of magic extended beyond the surface ruins that he had explored.

  Osric stood at the center of the domed room, gazing down at the stone at his feet and studying the array of magical strands that were woven into the rock and the mortar. The high concentration of free strands was not obvious near the surface, which explained why no Wand-Maker had even taken notice of the wells around the world. However, if he utilized the Stone-Sight ability to peer deep down into Archana, he could see the dense, swirling pool of strands. The floor of the structure had a significant amount of magic in it as well, although it was not the free strands that a Wand-Maker would be used to working with when creating wands. It was a varied and unfamiliar display of protection spells, like the ones he had seen on the island well they had discovered first with Serha, but Osric was not afraid of the spells now as he was then. He stood there silently, closely studying the spells and how they were woven into the stone. Ideally, Osric wanted to find a way into the well without severing the protection spells. It would be easier to leave them intact to keep others out of the site than to attempt to create new ones strong enough to do the job, but they had never discovered the key to deciphering the majority of the book that Trevar and Bridgett had found. Although they had been able to identify a few of the wells and the symbols Trevar needed to enter them, they had made little progress on the secrets the book contained. It was possible that every well’s location and symbols for entrance were recorded in the book, and Osric had brought it with him in hopes that identifying the locations with Gareth’s maps would aid them in sorting out the book’s contents, but Osric wasn’t confident that this would be fruitful. It was more likely that he would only be able to get inside if he could deconstruct the well’s defenses.

  There was certainly a hollow space beneath the floor of the domed chamber, but the area couldn’t be seen with the naked eye. Osric couldn’t tell if the space was filled with water or air, or even some other substance, but his Stone-Sight told him it was not solid stone or the rocky soil that surrounded and covered much of the ruins. He suspected that the spells on the stone, which were designed to hide the well, were interfering with his ability to use the Stone-Sight gift with accuracy. Yet, he still had enough control over it to combine with the Wand-Maker ability and view the strands on the far side of the thick stone. Directly below them was the well where the strands were most concentrated but somehow contained by the bowl-shaped structure that Bridgett had described to him in vivid detail. He must find a way inside, and he was not willing to begin by trying to harm the ruins or by damaging the intricate web of protection spells that had been cast at the time of its construction. He couldn’t just use the traveling spell, because he had no idea what the inside of the well looked like.

  Luckily, the wizards posted at the other well locations didn’t actually need to get inside in order to alter the stone and thus the flow of the strands. Osric, on the other hand, would not be able to utilize the amplification power of the wells for his spells unless he could get inside of the protection spells.

  Osric paced back and forth on the stone floor of the half-crumbled building. He thought back to everything they had learned about the wells: their origins, their construction, and the means of entering one of them. Nothing seemed to point him in the direction of how to enter this one. They had the book that contained the symbols for all of the wells, but he had no way of identifying which section in the book correlated to a specific well. Chanda’s visions had been triggered by some of the pages, leading them to several of the wells, but this one was not one of them. If he could identify which page in the book belonged to the Braya well, he would be able to use the symbols to open the portal.

  Osric stopped pacing and sat with the book in his lap. He ran his fingers over each page, hoping to trigger his own Seer ability, but none of the pages caused a vision. Many of them caused his Port
entist ability to flare up, but it was impossible to accurately read the ability’s meaning because it was not only triggered by one section of the book. It was clear that there was still a great deal he could learn from the book if he could decipher it, and most of the Portentist signals he was getting were mild warnings or subtle hints of importance that didn’t seem urgent. None of them indicated that what he needed right now was on any page in the book. Still, he knew it had to be.

  Osric tried examining the book with his Wand-Maker vision, trying to see if the patterns of strands attached to the book could give him some clue about the contents. All he could see were some basic protection spells, mostly to keep the book from weathering with time and moisture, and a few unfamiliar chains of strands along the binding. Osric assumed the chains were another type of protection spell, but he couldn’t tell what it did just by seeing the pattern of the strands. As far as he could tell, it was merely reinforcing the binding of the book to make it more resilient over years of use. In frustration, Osric looked up at his companions. Bridgett was watching him with a quiet, concerned expression softened with a subtle, loving smile. Aridis was sitting down across the room, leaning back against the cool stone wall with his eyes closed and humming softly to himself. Gus was staring up at the stone ceiling. Osric watched the prairie dog, needing to distract himself from the frustration of the book for a moment, and he noticed something he had never noticed before.

  When Gus activated his Wand-Maker ability to look at the strands woven into the structure of the domed ceiling, Osric saw a visible surge of magic course through the green orbs that resided in Gus’s eyes—the root of the Wand-Maker gift. Osric blinked, wondering if he had imagined it, but he could still see the steady stream of magic flowing through the orbs as Gus utilized his ability. Osric wondered why he had never noticed it before, but it was subtle and he hadn’t been looking for it. The realization of the gift’s activity made Osric wonder if the other abilities would do the same thing.