by K. B. Bogen
Now, she was using him again. Suddenly, Erwyn realized exactly why Sharilan had “recruited” him. She needed a fledgling magic-user to work through. He was certain now that rescuing Fenoria One was a bad idea. But why did Sharilan want her?
He had to get loose somehow. But this time he couldn’t. The sorceress was too strong.
“Hey, Erwyn. You doing all right? You look a little strange, even for a human.” Virgil snaked his head around until he could look Erwyn in the eye. But Erwyn couldn’t answer.
Against his will, Erwyn continued stripping away the spell. Or rather, his mind provided the means. The sorceress provided the methods. Sharilan was using him to undo Fenoria’s enchantment, and he doubted she was doing it for purely philanthropic reasons.
In spite of himself, Erwyn was fascinated by the process. Sharilan was doing exactly what he had been trying to do himself. Only faster and better.
Then it was over. Except Erwyn was still locked in that faraway place to which Sharilan had exiled him. She wasn’t through yet.
Power flowed into him, building somewhere behind his eyes. His arms and hands itched. He couldn’t move, except ...
“Erwyn, sweetie, what’s wrong?” Viona’s voice came from a long way off. “What’s the matter, can’t you ... ouch! That hurt.”
Erwyn was distantly aware of movement on his lap. Then everything came back into focus. The power buildup fizzled out, leaving him drained, with a still-aching head. He looked down to see what had happened.
Viona fluttered just above his lap holding a small silver pin in one hand. She was rubbing her petite little behind with the other hand, and looking very indignant.
“Where’d you get that?”
“It was stuck in the hem of your cloak. I accidentally sat on it! Don’t you know better than to keep straight pins in your clothes?”
“I didn’t put it there.” He reached down and took the pin from the damselfly.
As soon as he touched it, Erwyn knew the pin was the mysterious link between him and Sharilan. He almost threw it into the mass of vines across from him, but thought the better of it. Sharilan’s contrivance might actually be used against her.
“Hey, Erwyn! Get up off yer duff and come on. We’ve found that princess of yours.”
“That’s nice.” Erwyn stood slowly, looking thoughtfully at the sliver of metal he held. What should he do with it?
“What’s going on?”
“This.” Erwyn handed Chesric the pin.
“What is it?”
“I believe it is Sharilan’s connection to me.”
“Then get rid of it afore she uses it again!”
“Nope.” Erwyn shook his head, taking the pin from the old man. He stared at it for a few minutes, getting the spell right, then put it into his tunic pocket. “I think I may have a better use for it.”
“But won’t she be able to use it against ye again?”
“I don’t think so.” He smiled again, hoping he looked confident. “She uses the pin as a focus for her spells. If she can’t connect with it, she can’t do anything. Theoretically.”
“How are ye going to keep her from, uh, connecting with the pin?”
“The refrigeration spell I learned in school. It includes an insulator so you can carry a refrigerated object without getting cold. I stripped off the cooling spell and just used the insulator part. Hopefully it will keep her from being able to use it against me.”
“You sure?”
“No, but there’s no way to test it. What did you say about the princess?”
“We’ve found her. We need you to come get her.”
“What do you need me for?”
“She’s asleep.”
“Well, wake her.”
“We can’t.”
“It should be a simple, straightforward storybook spell. Just kiss her.”
“Well, uh ... ”
Erwyn suddenly realized what the old man was trying not to say. “You want me to do it?” The mere thought made his stomach turn flip-flops. He still wasn’t sure he should wake her up at all.
Chesric just gave the boy an apologetic look.
“Oh, all right, but I don’t have to like it.”
Erwyn started to follow Chesric, but was stopped by the large, clawed paw which suddenly appeared in his path.
“Wait just a second. You can’t run off like that. We haven’t finished our game yet. You’re such a pleasant guy to talk to and everything that I’d really hate to have to roast you alive. Burnt hair smells just dreadful, you know.”
Mission Accomplished
Damsels Come in All Sizes
“ENEMIES AREN’T THE ONLY ONES WHO SET TRAPS. SOMETIMES IT’S YOUR ALLIES.” — Sorcerers’ Almanac, Section Five: On Things to Watch Out For
“But I thought you were going to let us go if I removed Fenoria’s spell.”
“And I will, too. Just as soon as you get ... you mean it’s done? That’s it? It’s over?”
“Uh-huh. All gone. Care to try it out?”
Virgil didn’t need to be asked twice. Without stopping to say goodbye, he launched himself straight up and was soon level with the highest turret. It was a beautiful sight. For as long as it lasted.
As he passed the turret, the sky flashed blue, then red, then yellow, then green. Thunder rolled across the castle grounds, shaking the walls and knocking masonry loose.
And the dragon disappeared.
Seconds later, a tiny figure hurtled toward them with a cry that sounded like a gnat screaming “Oh, shi-i-i-i-t!”
“Oops!” Erwyn could think of nothing else to say.
Before Virgil could crash to the ground, the young sorcerer “caught” him with a levitation spell, then lowered him carefully to the ground.
The dragon had survived his transition reasonably well. His fall had been caused by the sudden loss of size, coupled with the equally sudden addition of a second pair of wings. Gender shock could have accounted for some of the problem, as well. Damselflies were, by definition, female.
He made a beautiful one, though. Long, wavy jet black hair flowed over an iridescent blue-green dress that reminded Erwyn of the dragon’s erstwhile scales.
“I thought you removed that spell.” Chesric whispered in the sorcerer’s ear, so he wouldn’t upset the dragon any more than necessary.
“I thought so, too,” Erwyn whispered back. “I wonder what spell I did re ... ”
Another thunderclap rocked the castle, followed by a whirlwind in the courtyard, centering on the dragon cum damselfly.
“Everyone duck!”
Erwyn’s warning was unnecessary. Chesric had already dashed off to the relative safety of the nearest wall, and Viona had taken to higher ground when Virgil exploded.
“SOME SPELLS TAKE LONGER TO WORK THAN OTHERS. AND SOME SPELLS TAKE LONGER TO CONVINCE NOT TO WORK.” — Sorcerers’ Almanac, Section Six: On the Successful Use of Magic
“Sheesh! I can’t think of a worse fate for a dragon.” Virgil had his voice set on “boom” again.
Erwyn closed his eyes, covered his ears, and waited for the dragon to calm down.
“Listen, Erwyn,” Virgil’s voice came from a point in front of the sorcerer’s face.
Erwyn opened his eyes.
“That isn’t going to happen again, is it?” Virgil looked concerned.
Erwyn didn’t blame him. “I don’t think so.”
“What happened?” Chesric took several wobbly steps toward the boy.
“Delayed reaction.” Erwyn scanned the dragon, then tried scanning the entire castle for residual spells. As far as he could tell, the coast was clear.
“Once more, with feeling.” The dragon flexed his wings, glanced apprehensively at that top turret, then launched himself. In seconds, he had sailed over the top of the castle
and out of view.
Erwyn stood watching the skies for another sight of Virgil.
“Gullible dragon,” the boy murmured.
“What do you mean? The spell was gone, wasn’t it?”
“Yes. But if I had been in his place, I’d have at least done some research before taking off like that. I mean, Fenoria might have set more than one boobytrap for him. And I am just a journeyman. I could have been wrong.”
“Why didn’t you mention it to him?”
“I didn’t think of it until just now.” He forced himself to stop his vigil for Virgil. “Okay. Let’s go see the princess and get this over with.”
Erwyn followed Chesric through a long, twisting, turning passage. Doors lined the hall on both sides, leading to unknown rooms and places. Chesric stopped at none of them.
“How’d you manage to find the princess in such a short time? There must be hundreds of rooms in this place.”
“Easy,” Chesric replied without stopping. “All the other doors are locked.”
“Not a very good way to prevent her from being found, if you ask me.”
“True. But maybe nobody expected us to get this far. Or maybe something terrible will happen when you wake her. Ah, here we are.”
“Here” turned out to be the end of the passage. The hall was blocked by a large, heavy-looking, beautifully carved door.
Erwyn would have liked to spend some time admiring the workmanship that went into making that door. Days maybe. Months even. At least until someone else came along to wake up the person behind it.
Unfortunately, Chesric didn’t let him stall that long. The old knight swung the door open to reveal a chamber worthy of the door.
Thick, royal blue carpets covered the floor from one wall to the other. The walls, too, were completely covered. Hand-woven tapestries hung from ceiling to floor, each bearing a different scene.
One depicted a typical hunt, like Erwyn had known as a little boy. The horses, dogs, and hunters were lifelike to the smallest detail.
Another hanging showed a fantastic battle between a tiger and a white unicorn. The animals seemed ready to leap from the walls.
Between the tapestries were tall columns, carved into the likenesses of mythical beasts. Or, maybe not so mythical, Erwyn decided, thinking about the dragon he’d just been talking to. In fact, one of the columns looked a lot like Virgil.
In the ceiling was set a round window through which sunlight streamed. Erwyn wondered what kept the rain out as he let his gaze travel the length of the sunbeams to the figure in the middle of the room.
He had saved the room’s occupant until last. Mostly because once he saw her, he might be too nervous or worried to check out the rest of the room.
His instincts were correct.
“PRINCESSES ARE NOT ALWAYS IMPRISONED BY EVIL WIZARDS.” — Sorcerers’ Almanac, Section Five: On Things to Watch Out For
Princess Fenoria rested on a dais in the exact center of the chamber. Or close enough to the center as makes no difference. Unlike the rest of the room, the dais was unadorned, unless one counted the princess herself.
She lay on the platform like a life-sized china doll. Her blue and silver satin dress sparkled in the sunlight, cascading over the edges of the dais. Volumes of shiny black hair had been spread out from her head, fanlike, to tumble over the sides of the platform. Her hands were clasped across a tiny waist, and she seemed to be holding something.
Finally, Erwyn allowed himself to focus on her face. He hadn’t really expected anything spectacular. As a result, he was shocked.
Princess Fenoria was not only beautiful, she was phenomenal. She had flawless olive-hued skin and a perfect oval face. Her lips were red, her cheeks like roses. Her nose was the perfect size for her face and was perfectly straight, except for ... the heck with it! Erwyn didn’t need to catalogue every feature. What mattered was, she was gorgeous. Kissing her might not be so bad, after all. He wondered briefly when his opinion of kissing girls had changed.
“Come on, quit stallin’ and get it over with.”
“I’m working up to it.”
“Work faster.”
Erwyn looked at the girl again, but the mood was gone. She was still pretty, but he was no longer in danger of getting all sappy about it.
Slowly, the young sorcerer approached the dais. He took a moment to wipe the sweat from his palms, before he closed his eyes and bent to give her a long and lasting kiss.
“Geez, that was great. But next time could you try for the lips? I think you bruised my nose.”
The princess was awake. She sat up, smoothing her hair and patting her dress into perfect folds.
“Boy, I’ve been waiting a small slice of forever for someone to come and get me out of this place, ya know what I mean? I thought I’d never get out of here, let me tell you. Say, what did you say your name was, sweetheart?”
“Uh, Erwyn.”
“Well, I don’t mind telling you, I’m glad to get up off that dais. My back is simply killing me. And these shoes ... ”
Fenoria One slipped her arm through Erwyn’s and dragged him toward the door.
“ ... they’re just not the right size. You just can’t get a good cobbler these days. Not to mention this dress. Blue really isn’t my color, you know ... ”
“Chesric!” Erwyn looked to his friend for help.
“Gesundheit. Anyway, as I was saying, I really ought to wear something in less natural colors, say light pink, or maybe peach and teal. Something to offset the drab color of my eyes, and my skin, and my hair ... ”
An eternity later, they reached the courtyard, with Chesric and Kerissa trailing behind. Virgil was nowhere to be found. Erwyn hoped he’d been able to get away without springing any more traps. On second thought, he almost wished the dragon would come back and finish him off.
Better a quick death by dragon fire, than being chattered to death.
“ ... and this castle. It’s so drafty. Why do they always have to lock princesses up in drafty old stone castles, anyway? I’ve half a mind to report this to my daddy, as soon as I can get back to him. I wonder how long I’ve been asleep ... ”
So it went, across the courtyard, through the passage, and out the gates. Once outside the gates, Erwyn paused to retrieve his wand from its pocket. Apparently, the thorn bushes hadn’t given up just because the princess had awakened.
“Geez! Would you look at this place. You’d think it was haunted, or something. Why do they always have to use a gloomy place like this to lock people up in? I mean, why not put them someplace more cheerful? Like a beautiful ivy-covered cottage in the wood, with a white-picket fence and lots of trees and rose bushes and ... ”
Erwyn was beginning to doubt she’d actually been kidnapped. Maybe her father had given the princesss to Fenoria Two. Maybe he paid the witch to take the girl away. Erwyn certainly wanted to. He looked around, but there were no witches in evidence.
He stuck the wand into the hedge and enlarged the subsequent hole until it was large enough to accommodate even Fenoria’s mouth. It was also large enough for him to see the spectacle that awaited them outside the castle grounds.
Castle Sandwich
Help! Help! The Gang’s All Here
“PROVOKING AN ATTACK FROM A MORE POWERFUL MAGE IS DANGEROUS. PROVOKING ONE INTENTIONALLY IS SUICIDAL.” — Sorcerers’ Almanac, Section Six: On the Successful Use of Magic
While they’d been exploring the castle, the rear guard had been busy.
Devydd and Lariyn were bound and gagged and lying on the ground. Devydd seemed to be taking things philosophically. That is, he was busy trying to undo his bonds while ignoring the large, pointy objects that were aimed his way.
Lariyn’s face was bruised and puffy, her tunic torn in places. She must have put up quite a fight. There were more men guarding her than Devydd.
&
nbsp; Several of the damselflies were hanging from the point of a pike. In a net. Erywn could hear them whining and complaining. Something about wrinkles and crushed wings.
Then there was Sharilan. As his gaze locked with hers, Erwyn had a fervent desire to be back in the relative safety of the castle. Even the losing hand of a game of three-handed poker was preferable to facing the sorceress.
She seemed to like to travel with large groups, too. In addition the the seven men guarding Lariyn, Devydd, and the damselflies, there were ten more pointing their toys at Erwyn, Chesric, and Kerissa. And then there was the army.
It was hard to be certain how many soldiers there were, and Erwyn was fairly certain Sharilan wouldn’t let him take time to count. At a guess, there were ... dozens.
“I see you’ve made good use of the wand,” Sharilan commented. Her voice was huskier than Erwyn remembered. He also didn’t remember the hard edge in her tone or the icy chill up his back when she spoke.
“I did my best.”
“Now, if you would be so kind as to return it, please. Along with the silver sphere dear Fenoria is carrying.”
Erwyn glanced at the girl clinging to his arm and the shiny ball she held. He’d forgotten she was there. It was the first time she’d been quiet since he’d awakened her.
“No way.” Erwyn pushed the princess behind him as Chesric and Kerissa closed the space between themselves and him.
“I didn’t go to all the trouble to put this castle here and lure the princess into it, just to be defeated by a mere journeyman. It’s bad enough my sister tried to keep me from succeeding, with her damn snowstorms, sleeping beauty spells, and dragons. You haven’t got a chance.”
“I can try.”
“You think you can best me where my sister failed?” Sharilan’s eyes narrowed. “Very well!” Blue light crackled between her fingers as she signalled her henchmen.