The Sword and the Sorcerer

by John Phythyon

  “No,” she replied. “You’re just supposed to scatter them over the water.”

  Good. Calibot had no desire to engage in any lengthy ceremonies or make any speeches. He might have been a poet, but he had nothing to say at his father’s funeral – at least not anything others wanted to hear.

  He stepped forward to the water’s edge and undid the thong holding the bag shut. Zod cleared his throat.

  “Aren’t you going to say anything?” he demanded.

  “No,” Calibot said with a glare.

  Zod looked angry. His fading blue eyes returned momentarily to their piercing ferocity.

  “Then I will,” he said.

  He came forward and stood at the water’s edge, fixing Calibot with a glare of his own. Calibot rejoined Devon without returning his uncle’s stony gaze. He didn’t feel guilty or ashamed, and he wasn’t about to give the impression he did. Zod faced the assemblage.

  “I knew Gothemus all my life,” he began. “Obviously. I can’t say whether he was a good brother or a bad one. I’m not the emotional sort who could judge such things.

  “What I will say is that he was an exceptional man. Everyone knew he was the world’s foremost magician. You didn’t have to know him to know that. He subdued the very universe with his will.

  “What made him so exceptional was his vision. Gothemus saw the world as no one else did. He saw possibility. He saw opportunity. And he saw ways to capitalize.

  “Gothemus and I changed the world. We recreated it in the way we wanted. And we were able to do that because Gothemus had vision. He saw more than the rest of us. He looked further down the road than anyone else.

  “The world will miss that sort of vision. And I will miss his companionship.”

  Calibot rolled his eyes. Vision? If Gothemus could see so well, why the hell hadn’t he been able to see his son standing right in front of him?

  The whole speech was disgusting. Calibot knew everyone hero-worshipped his father – mostly out of fear. But he thought Zod had more self-respect than that. He was Gothemus’s partner, his brother! But here he was licking the boots of the Known World’s most powerful sorcerer just like everyone else.

  Oh, well. It was time for him to scatter the ashes. Then he could go home and not have to listen to any more of this sort of sycophantism.

  He walked up to the water’s edge without looking at Zod. With the thong undone, he didn’t have to wait. He gripped the bag by its bottom and cast his arm out over the water. Ashes flew out in a perfect, grey arc and seemed to hang in the air for a moment. Then they settled down towards the lake, falling like tiny, silver stars. For a moment, it looked beautiful.

  Then the first ash hit the water, and everything changed. Instantly, the entire stream of them ignited in purple fire. Calibot dropped the bag and fell back, putting up his arm to shield his face from the flames.

  Zod too was thrown to the ground by the force of the fiery blast. Burning from an unknown fuel source, the purple conflagration dropped to the lake and ignited the water as though it were a pool of oil. The flames raged, turning from purple to blue to green.

  And then, when he lowered his arm, Calibot saw his father standing in the fires gazing at him. He wore a blue robe emblazoned with stars, and his long hair and beard looked as though they had been washed and immaculately combed.

  Unable to control his reaction, Calibot’s mouth fell open at the sight of his father. He hadn’t expected this at all. He thought he was done.

  But it seemed Gothemus wasn’t. He had one final magic trick to play.

  “Calibot,” he said.

  His voice echoed as if he were in a high-ceilinged, stone temple. Calibot was used to his father sounding authoritative and even powerful, but now he sounded downright majestic.

  “My son,” he continued, “congratulations. It took insight and wisdom to make it to this point. I’m so pleased you have solved my puzzles thus far.

  “Now it is time for your reward. In my tower, in the topmost room, lies the Eye of the Dragon. It is the most powerful artifact in the Known World. I have warded the tower against all intruders. Even your uncle cannot gain access.

  “But Wyrmblade can. It is the key that unlocks all my chains.

  “The Eye and the sword are yours. They are my bequests to you.

  “Beware of Zod. He wants them for himself. Do not let him have them. His destiny has run its course. Yours is just beginning.

  “Beware, too, Elmanax. He wants the Eye back, and he will kill whomever he must to get it. I have left you enough magic to deal with him. Use it wisely, and he will be no impediment to you.

  “Farewell, my son. You have all you need.”

  For a few seconds, the fire raged hotter and taller than before. It turned blue again and then became white. Gothemus’s image faded away. Then the flames vanished as though the source of their fuel had been suddenly cut off. Calibot felt emptier than he ever had in his life.

  He turned to his companions. Devon looked astonished. Liliana was clearly afraid.

  Calibot suddenly thought about what his father had said about Zod. He whipped his head over in his uncle’s direction. Zod lay on the sand looking sad. Alistair looked as stunned as Devon.

  No one said anything for a moment. They just absorbed their individual impressions of Gothemus’s last bit of magic. Then Zod got to his feet.

  “Well,” he said, “now what?”

  Calibot stared at him. Hadn’t he heard what Gothemus said? Perhaps he hadn’t. Maybe Gothemus arranged the magic so only Calibot could see him. It was certainly the sort of thing his father could manage.

  “What did you see?” Calibot said.

  “Your father,” Zod croaked. “Rising up into the sky on fiery wings. He always did love fire. It was his favorite element and his favorite type of magic.”

  Once again, Calibot kept his expression flat, but inwardly he was gaping. His uncle had seen something completely different than he had. The message had been just for him.

  He stood up and brushed the sand off himself. Then he turned towards the tower, set his shoulders, and started walking.

  “Where are you going,” Liliana asked.

  “To get the Eye of the Dragon,” Calibot replied.

  Chapter 25: Wrapped in Grief

  Devon’s jaw hung open as he watched Calibot stalk away towards the tower. What the hell was he doing?

  “Wait!” he called out. Calibot kept walking. “Calibot!”

  He stopped and turned back, looking aggravated. Devon advanced a few steps towards him.

  “What do you mean you’re going to go get the Eye,” Devon asked, confused.

  “I know how to get into the tower now,” Calibot said, his voice flat.

  Devon gaped at him. Calibot was doing it again – he was changing the plan without warning, without consulting anyone.

  “What happened to leaving it where it was so no one could get it?” Devon said.

  “Things have changed.”

  “What things?”

  “Listen,” Zod said, “if he knows how to get the Eye of the Dragon, I say we get it. We need every advantage available.”

  Devon wanted to shout at Zod to be quiet, but he knew better. He focused his anger on Calibot instead.

  “We need to talk,” Devon said.

  “Devon, there isn’t time for that now,” Calibot said with a sigh.

  “Make time,” Devon demanded.

  He held Calibot tightly with his gaze. Calibot’s face was stony, but Devon saw through it. He could perceive Calibot’s worry and his anger and his desire for command of the situation battling for control of him.

  “Fine,” Calibot said at last. “But make it fast. We’ve got a lot to do.”

  “Let’s go somewhere private,” Devon said.

  Calibot stared at him again. Now, he clearly was frustrated.

  “Fine,” he said again and stalked away towards Zod’s encampment.

  “Would you excuse us?” Devon said to th
e others. Then he hurried after his love.

  Calibot strode swiftly through the camp and went into Zod’s tent without permission. Devon choked down his surprise. He wasn’t sure this was exactly private, since Zod could come in at any moment, but he supposed it was better than being out in the open.

  He pushed the flap of the tent aside and found Calibot standing stiffly with his arms crossed. He wore an irritated expression.

  “What is going on?” Devon said, letting the tent flap fall shut behind him.

  “Nothing is going on, Devon,” he replied.

  “Then why the sudden change in plans?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Yes, you do,” Devon said, getting angrier. “The plan was to leave the Eye where it is, so no one can get it. Now, all of a sudden, you know how to get into the tower, so we have to go retrieve it. Why? Even if you do know how to get in, why do we have to? Why can’t we just leave it there like we planned? Wouldn’t that be better for everyone?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know!” Calibot shouted.

  The look of irritation had turned to frustration and fear. Devon wasn’t sure how to react.

  “What did you see when I scattered the ashes,” Calibot asked.

  Devon was worried. Zod had already described something he hadn’t seen.

  “All I saw was a giant fireball,” he confessed. “I didn’t see your father like Zod described.” Calibot was silent. “Why?”

  “Because I saw something different from both of you,” Calibot said. “My father appeared to me. He spoke to me.”

  “What did he say?” Devon said, unable to keep the astonishment from his voice.

  “That Wyrmblade and the Eye of the Dragon were his bequests to me. And that the sword is the key to the tower. It’ll get us in.”

  Devon stared in wonder at him. The magic itself was extraordinary. That Gothemus could have left a posthumous message like that for Calibot – and a different one for Zod – was amazing. That the sword had even more magical powers than they had yet discovered was equally incredible. But what was Gothemus playing at? Why involve Calibot in this at all? Why bequeath him two of the most powerful weapons on Earth, when he had no use for either of them? It didn’t make any sense.

  “But why does that mean we have to go into the tower and get the Eye, Calibot?” he said. “Your father may have gifted it to you, but it’s up to you to decide what to do with it. Why not just leave it where it is?”

  “I don’t know,” Calibot answered. The anger was gone from his voice. He sounded miserable. Devon’s heart ached. “I just know I’m supposed to go in there and get it.”

  Devon turned that idea over in his head. He didn’t like the implications.

  “Calibot,” he said, “has it occurred to you that you may be under a spell?”

  His eyes flew open at that suggestion. Then he looked shocked.

  “Of course!” he said, and Devon believed him. The look on his face suggested he was surprised Devon had come to the same conclusion. “Don’t you think all this has occurred to me? I know he’s manipulating me. It’s his last, sad insult!”

  “Then why do as he wants?”

  “Because I don’t think I have a choice!” he shouted. “I’m not sure he’s just manipulating me; he might be controlling me.”

  “But you do have a choice,” Devon argued. “Calibot, the fact that you’re talking to me about this indicates you have some control over your own actions. You say you need to go get the Eye of the Dragon from the tower. That might be true, but you could still resist the impulse. We could get on our horses right now and leave for Dalasport. Wyrmblade is the key to getting in your father’s tower? We can take it with us, so no one can use it. You have options.”

  Calibot stared at him with hope in his eyes. For a moment, Devon thought he might actually consider leaving. But then his expression turned bitter.

  “That sounds awfully nice,” he said. “But there’s something else. What if all this is really important? You said yourself back in Eldenberg that there were political things in play here you couldn’t ignore. You owed the duke to investigate them.

  “Whether we take the sword back to Dalasport and leave the Eye of the Dragon in the tower or not, it doesn’t change the fact that someone murdered my father, and that will alter the balance of power. Plus, what if Zod decides he wants the sword and the Eye for himself? Suppose he decides we’re not allowed to leave. My father warned me in the vision that my uncle wanted the artifacts and that I shouldn’t let him have them.”

  Devon couldn’t help but be shocked. Gothemus was plotting against his own brother? They’d always been extremely close as far as anyone knew. Why would Gothemus not want Zod to have Wyrmblade and the Eye of the Dragon? Why would he give them to his poet son and specifically instruct him to not allow Zod to get them?

  “Calibot,” he said, “maybe we should flee. If we were to leave now, we could get a good head start and surely make it to Dalasport ahead of your uncle. Then we’d have the duke’s protection.”

  “I don’t think that’ll work,” Calibot replied. “There’s still the matter of Elmanax. My father warned me about him too. Somehow, I doubt he’d let us get to Dalasport, and, given that he was in Eldenberg, I’m not sure we’d be safe from him in the city anyway.”

  Devon nodded. As had become usual, Calibot was making good sense when it came to strategy.

  “I don’t know how or why,” Calibot continued, “but I think this is where it all ends. Whatever plan my father had, it all comes together here. I have to use the sword to get the Eye of the Dragon.”

  “Then what?”

  Calibot didn’t answer immediately. He looked hopelessly at Devon.

  “I don’t know,” he said.

  “But you probably will,” Devon said. “It’s another of your father’s puzzles. Sort out the answer to one, and it’ll give you the next one to solve.”

  “Right,” Calibot said, nodding. “Damn him anyway.”

  “For putting you in this position?”

  “For not being a father!” Calibot said, suddenly turning savage. “He cast this elaborate spell, so he could give me his final instructions on how to get the Eye of the Dragon. He put all this thought into this careful strategy for me to get my ‘birthrights.’ But he never said, ‘I love you.’ He never said, ‘I’m proud of you.’ He didn’t even say goodbye!

  “And now he wants me to use this stupid magic sword to break into his tower and retrieve another artifact. I don’t know what it’s for. I don’t know what to do with it, but, by the gods, I have to go get it and make sure it doesn’t fall into the hands of his brother or the gnome they stole it from.

  “And then I’ve got to listen to everybody we meet tell me how wonderful he was. They all want me to know how much they admired him. Everyone wants to make sure I understand what an honor it was to know him. They didn’t know him! If they did, they’d have despised him. He was a son of a bitch, who only gave a damn about his schemes.

  “Uncle Zod says he had vision? Ha! I wonder what Zod would think of Father’s vision if he knew it meant I was supposed to get the sword and the Eye and to keep them away from him.

  “None of them knew him – even Zod, it seems. But I did. I knew the bastard well. And all this is so typical of him.”

  Calibot fell silent. Devon’s heart broke. Calibot was wrapped in grief, and Devon had no idea how to peel it away from him or even if he should. The anger and bitterness were a long time coming. Devon had seen it building since Liliana first arrived, but even that was too soon to really measure it. The fire had been smoldering for as long as Devon had known him. This fury, this hatred had been built over a lifetime.

  “He didn’t know me,” Calibot said. “He didn’t care to. He let me walk away and was glad to see me go. He rejected me because of who I was.”

  “Because you’re gay?” Devon said, confused. He’d never heard Calibot
mention this before.

  “Because I’m a poet!” Calibot shouted. “He didn’t care if I was gay or straight. It made no difference to him whom I had sex with or whether I did it at all. It only mattered that I wasn’t a sorcerer – that I didn’t want to be one. It didn’t occur to him I might want a life of my own, that I might want my own destiny, not the one he plotted for me.”

  Tears flooded Calibot’s eyes. Devon’s heart broke again, and he went to him. Calibot tried to resist; he was too angry to want to be consoled. But Devon wouldn’t let him get away. He wrapped him in his strong arms and pulled him in. Unable to escape, Calibot gave himself over to his grief. He buried his head in Devon’s shoulder and sobbed uncontrollably.

  “I’m sorry, Calibot,” Devon soothed. “I wish I could take all your pain away. I love you.”

  They embraced for a long time. Calibot simply let himself be held, and Devon said nothing more. There was nothing to say. He stroked Calibot’s hair and let him cry.

  Finally, Calibot withdrew and wiped the remaining tears from his eyes. He gazed at Devon and was himself again. Devon hadn’t had this familiar a look at his love since they’d left Dalasport.

  “We’d better get going,” Calibot said. “My uncle and the others will be waiting.”

  “Are you sure that’s the best thing to do, Calibot? We could still walk away.”

  “Devon, I’m sure my father will not leave us in peace until we finish whatever mad scheme he’s concocted for us. If we want to escape him, if we want this to end, we’re going to have to finish this as he intended.”

  Devon frowned. Calibot was making sense, but there was one part of his plan Devon didn’t like.

  “No, Calibot,” he said. “We need to finish this like you intend. When we finally have the last piece of the puzzle, make sure you choose the solution, not your father.”

  Calibot nodded. Then the spell took hold of him again. The real Calibot slipped away behind the façade he’d assumed since leaving Eldenberg.

  “Let’s go,” Calibot said.

  Devon shivered. He couldn’t think of anything worse than Calibot re-entering his father’s tower.

  Chapter 26: Unlocking the Tower