Harlow opened the chest to find to her surprise that it contained wizard dress robes in a deep ruby red color. She couldn’t imagine why the “boss” would want her to wear dress robes, except perhaps to make fun of her. With a sigh, she started stripping out of her street clothes. If he wanted to make fun of her, let him. The more time he wasted on silly antics, the more time Myles had to find her and rescue her.
Harlow slipped into the dress robes, which fit surprisingly well. Whoever had guessed at her size had done a good job. She found the hairbrush in the trunk and brushed out her long dark locks. Then she went to the basin and splashed a small bit of water on her face. The water was surprisingly warm, and Harlow sank her hands down into it once she realized this. The heat of the water slowly chased away the chill in her fingers. Once she was ready, Harlow was not sure what to do next, and she sat down on the small bed to think. She fingered at her magic ring, which was still invisible, and thought about what spells she might use to get herself out of here.
She had to plan things carefully. There were way too many wizards out here for her to overcome by herself. She would have to use stealth, but even then, she needed a clear plan. If she merely used an invisibility spell and left, she would be in the middle of a snowy wilderness with no supplies and no idea which direction to walk in. Perhaps she could find a way to steal a snowmobile and make a break for it that way. That would require some finesse, though. She’d have to put a silencing spell on the snowmobile, along with an invisibility spell, or her captors would realize what was going on. Snowmobiles don’t just start riding away of their own accord.
Then, suddenly, with her mind fixated on invisibility spells, Harlow realized that it might be possible to damage the invisibility shield that surrounded this base camp. She stood, excitement filling her as she tried to think of a counterspell that would work. She didn’t need to damage the whole shield. Just enough so that Myles would be able to see the camp if he flew over it. The invisibility spell had not been cast very well, by the looks of it, so it shouldn’t be too hard to make a dent in it. Harlow squeezed her eyes shut as she thought, trying her best to come up with an idea that would work. After a few moments of thinking, she opened her eyes and snapped her fingers.
“Got it,” she said. But she would need to be in open air for it to work, not under the roof of the tent. She was about to open the door flap to her little tent room to ask if she could be allowed to have some fresh air, when the flap was opened by one of the guards.
“Come on,” he said. “We’re going to see the boss.”
“Is he in this tent?” Harlow asked, trying to keep her voice casual.
The guard rolled his eyes at her. “Of course not. The boss don’t hang out with the common folk. He’s in his tent. Let’s go.”
Harlow could not have been happier at this news. It meant she would be outside for a few moments while they transferred her, giving her a chance to perform the spell she had in mind She quickly fell into step behind the guard, and the other guards who had been waiting in the hallway joined her. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves as they stepped outside. She was going to have to cast this spell stealthily, so that the guards didn’t realize what she was doing and figure out that she still had a magic ring. She was frantically trying to come up with a good diversion, when fate decided to hand her one.
A sudden, loud explosion sounded off in the otherwise stillness of the snowy base camp. Harlow found herself knocked to the ground along with several of the guards. Screams rang out across the yard, but Harlow did not bother looking to see what was going on. This was her chance, but she knew she only had a few seconds to act. While everyone else was disoriented, following the instinctive urge to look around and see what had caused the explosion, she would be carving out a hole in the invisibility shield.
Harlow pointed her ringed hand toward the sky as unobtrusively as she could, and yelled out, “Magicae oblitero.”
She could feel the energy shooting out from her hand, and she knew the spell was working. She moved her ring in a large circle as she pointed it toward the sky, hoping to cover a large area with the spell. Nervously, she glanced around at the guards, but none of them seemed to have heard her scream out her spell. There had been too much other shouting going on. Harlow glanced up toward the sky, hoping and praying that the magic repelling spell had worked.
It was a defensive spell, normally used to surround yourself with an invisible force field of sorts. That force field repelled any and all magic spells, which kept anyone inside of it safe from attacking wizards. It wasn’t a very strong shield, and so was usually used only as a way to buy time when trying to get away from an attacking wizard. It would not hold very long in a battle—as soon as a wizard realized the spell was there, several counterspells could easily break down the force field, allowing magic to work in that area once again.
But it didn’t matter that the force field was easily destroyed, as long as Saul’s army didn’t realize it was there. They had no idea that she had her magic ring still, and so they would not be expecting her to have been able to cast any spells. The force field would keep any magic spells from working in the area where Harlow had cast it, including, of course, invisibility shields. If Myles flew over this area, he would be able to see the enemy’s base camp through the large, gaping hole in the invisibility shield. Harlow bit her lip as she looked up, silently praying that he would fly by here soon. She wasn’t sure what plans “the boss” had for her, but she had a feeling they weren’t good.
Rough hands pulled her up, then, and everything around her came back into sharp focus. She looked around, remembering suddenly that she had no idea what had caused the explosion. A glance over her left shoulder showed her the problem. A snowmobile had exploded, and had caused the snowmobile next to it to explode as well. Both vehicles were up in flames now, and were surrounded by angry, shouting wizards.
“Stupid ass showoffs,” muttered the guard who had pulled her up from the ground. “Always trying to one-up each other on their spells. I told them that one day they were going to do some real damage with all their antics. Boss won’t be happy about losing two snowmobiles for no reason, no siree.”
The other guards grunted and muttered words of agreement, and Harlow couldn’t help looking back over her shoulders again to stare at the wizards gathered around the burning snowmobiles. They were all yelling at each other, too wound up in the moment to even bother with using a water spell to put out the fire. The scene was almost comical, and reminded Harlow of a clown show she had once seen where the clowns ran around in frantic circles while a fire blazed behind them. She wanted to laugh, but she didn’t think her captors would take too kindly to that, so she kept her mouth shut.
The guards were pushing her toward a large tent now, which Harlow assumed belonged to the boss. Several shifter and wizard guards surrounded the structure. They nodded courteously to the guards who were escorting Harlow, and stepped back to allow them to pass. Harlow felt her stomach clenching tightly with anxiety as she followed the guard in front of her into the tent. All of Peter’s warnings about dark magic came flooding back to her mind, causing a cold sweat to begin to break out onto her forehead. Would the “boss” try to use dark magic spells on her, to try to force her to talk? Harlow had vowed she would never give away information about her clan or the dragon shifters, and she meant to stick to that vow. But she wasn’t looking forward to facing down dark magic by herself. She had her ring, true. But there were too many evil wizards and shifters here for her to fight on her own. She was only one wizard, and she could only do so much.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, Harlow allowed one of the guards to take her arm and lead her deeper into the tent. There seemed to be an outer chamber and inner chamber in the structure. The outer chamber was full of plush-looking couches and chairs and tables constructed of rich wood. The tables were covered with platters of delicious-looking food, and pitchers of water and wine. Harlow felt her mouth watering, and she
realized that it had been hours since she’d eaten anything. In the back of her mind, she wondered why Saul’s men, whose conversation she had recorded, had complained about supplies running low. They must have fixed their supply problem, because from the looks of the spread here, there was plenty of food. Or, perhaps, the supply problem only existed because the boss took all of the best food for himself.
Harlow didn’t have long to ponder the question. She was being pushed through a tent flap now into the inner chamber. She stumbled a bit from the force of the guards arms on her back, but managed to catch herself before she completely fell over.
When she looked up and looked around, she was taken aback by the richness of what she saw. The tent walls in here were covered with velvet drapes the same shade of ruby red as the dress robes that Harlow was wearing. Dozens of large candles filled the space, casting ambient light across the whole room. Harlow questioned the wisdom of lighting so many candles inside a structure like a tent, which might catch fire easily. But she supposed the boss didn’t care much. He could probably just get a new tent.
Speaking of the boss, Harlow was pretty sure she had just come face to face with him, and she gasped at what she saw.
Chapter Eighteen
“Samuel!” Harlow exclaimed, unable to hold back her shock.
The man in front of her, an old, white-haired wizard wearing dress robes of ruby and gold, with a tall wizard hat of the same color, rose to his feet and bowed.
“Indeed,” he said. “I’m Samuel. I’m pleased to see that the citizens of Falcon Cross have not forgotten me entirely. And you must be Harlow.”
Harlow was speechless. Samuel had been one of the High Council members in Falcon Cross, until he had committed treason and had been stripped of his magic and excommunicated. How had he ended up here, commanding an outpost of Saul’s army? The stripping of magic was irreversible, and would have left Samuel as nothing more than a helpless old man. And yet here he stood, obviously in charge and revered by all of the shifters and wizards in this base camp. Harlow’s eyes inadvertently made their way down to his right hand, where she saw to her surprise that he wore a magic ring of dark, black onyx.
Samuel saw her gaze as it landed on his ring, and he smiled a sinister, evil smile.
“Oh yes, my dear. I’m wearing a magic ring. And as you might have guessed, I wear it so I can do magic.”
With that, he raised his ringed hand and screamed out, “Magicae ignis.” Flames shot from his ring, coming dangerously close to hitting the very flammable roof of the tent. Despite her resolve not to speak any more than necessary, Harlow could not help herself.
“But…but you were stripped of your magic. The process is irreversible,” she said.
“Ignis terminantur,” Samuel said. The flames stopped, and he turned toward Harlow with a look of extreme satisfaction on his face.
“I was indeed stripped of my magic,” he said, his voice dripping with bitterness. “But such a procedure is not, as you have always been told, irreversible. There are ways to restore magic. They are painful procedures, to be sure. But not so painful as spending the rest of your life with no ability to do magic.”
He dramatically turned, sweeping his long dress robes in a giant circle as he did. He walked to a large, high-backed arm chair that looked suspiciously similar to a throne, and sat down. Behind the “throne” hung several traditional wizard accoutrements: a few broomsticks for flying, an old-fashioned wand, which most modern wizards had given up in favor of the more practical magic rings, and a long sash that was embroidered with ancient runes. Harlow knew wizards of old had often worn these sashes because they believed the sashes enhanced their magical powers. She’d always been told that was just a legend, and there was no truth to it. But then again, she’d also been told that magic could not be restored once it was stripped away. And yet, here in front of her was a man who had been stripped of magic and could still perform magic spells.
Samuel leaned back in his chair, with his hands resting regally on the armrests. He eyed Harlow curiously, sizing her up. She wanted to ask how, exactly, his magic had been restored, but she refrained. She did not want to give him the satisfaction of acting any more interested than she already had. It didn’t matter, though, whether she asked. He had apparently decided to tell her anyway.
“You see, Harlow, there are powers in magic greater than you have ever been allowed to know,” he said. “And my liege and leader, Saul, has become an expert at such powers. It was, you see, Saul who gave me back my magic. He is a great man and I owe him my full allegiance.”
“You owed your full allegiance to Falcon Cross!” Harlow spat out, disgusted by Samuel’s show of bravado. But Samuel, who seemed unperturbed by Harlow’s anger, merely laughed.
“Oh, to be sure, I swore allegiance to Falcon Cross. But the wizards in Falcon Cross let me down. They would not touch the most powerful magic, the magic that could have allowed our clan to rule the world. Instead, they insisted it was too dangerous. They held us back from true glory. Falcon Cross could have been great, Harlow. Instead, it will be subject to Saul, the truest master of magic there ever was.”
“Master of dark magic, you mean,” Harlow said, her tone disgusted. But Samuel only chuckled again.
“Oh, child. You must get over this aversion to ‘dark magic,’ as you call it. There is no dark or light in magic, only powerful or weak. Join us. Choose the side of power.”
Harlow’s eyes widened. “You’re delusional,” she said. “Dark magic destroys those who use it.”
Samuel raised an eyebrow at her. “So you’ve been told. Just as you’ve been told that magic can’t be restored, or that only those who are born as wizards can use magic. But Saul was not born a wizard, and yet he uses magic. It’s time to question what you thought you knew.”
“What are you talking about?” Harlow asked. She was confused. She’d been told that Saul was a dragon shifter. And shifters could not use magic—not as far as she knew. Samuel was right. Harlow had always been told that only those who were born as wizards could use magic.
“Saul was born a dragon shifter, yes,” Samuel said as though he were reading Harlow’s mind. “But he has also been given the ability to use magic. He met a wizard who practiced, as you call it, dark magic. That wizard performed a spell on him that turned him into a wizard, and he has since become an expert in dark magic. Forget your precious Peter back in Falcon Cross. Saul is the most powerful wizard you will ever meet.”
Harlow was speechless again. Her whole being was filled with horror at what Samuel was telling her. It seemed impossible, and yet, it must be true. Peter himself had said that dark magic could do strange things that normal, good magic could not. Although, as she looked up at Samuel’s twisted, evil face, Harlow had no doubt that at least one thing she’d always been told about dark magic was true: it turned the person who was using it evil, and sucked away their soul. Perhaps dark magic was powerful, but it would certainly destroy anyone who used it. Not to mention that most of the dark magic spells were used to inflict pain on others, which Harlow was not interested in doing. Harlow looked up at Samuel with hatred in her eyes. She could not believe that he used to be someone she looked up to. He seemed unaffected by her glares, however, and continued to smile down at her.
“You’re probably wondering why I’ve brought you here,” he said, drumming his fingers on the armrest of his chair. “The reason, my dear child, is to ask you to join us.”
“Join you and Saul?” Harlow asked, incredulous. “Never!”
Samuel started laughing again. Harlow generally didn’t like to harm people if she didn’t have to, but she had never wished so badly that she could punch someone in the face. Her stomach turned every time Samuel called her “dear child,” as though they were somehow akin to family. She wanted nothing to do with this man and his evil plans.
Samuel stood then, and nodded to the guards, which seemed to be some sort of signal. Two of the guards left the room, and came back a few minut
es later carrying a large wooden trunk between them. They deposited the large trunk right in front of the chair where Samuel had been sitting. A woman had followed them in, a young wizard dressed in ruby robes that were similar to the dress robes Harlow was wearing. She stood by the trunk with her hands folded neatly in front of her, attentively watching Harlow. Samuel nodded at the woman, and she produced a large set of keys which she promptly handed over to Samuel.
“It’s this one, your Honor,” she said, bowing slightly and pointing to one of the keys. Harlow felt her stomach turn again as she heard Samuel referred to by his old title of “your Honor.” There was nothing honorable about him, and that young wizard was severely mistaken if she thought Samuel deserved a title like that. For his part, Samuel clearly enjoyed the title, because he gave a slight bow back in the woman’s direction.
“Thank you, Isabelle,” he said, then moved to unlock the trunk. When he had pushed back the lid, he pulled out first Harlow’s duffel bag, then Myles’ duffel, and then the backpack they had been using. After that, he pulled out a large, leather briefcase that appeared to be stuffed with papers. Harlow blinked a few times, straining her eyes to see what kinds of papers they might be. But Samuel was all too happy to tell her.
“The amethyst records, Harlow,” he said with a huge, stupid grin on his face. “I believe you’re familiar with them?”
Harlow did not answer him. She glared in his direction, trying to put up an unimpressed façade. On the inside, though, she was frantically trying to figure out a way to get the records. Perhaps if she ran and grabbed them quickly, then grabbed a broomstick from behind Samuel’s chair to cast a flying spell, she could escape before they had time to react. She would just need a little bit of a head start.
Determination and the Dragon (Redwood Dragons Book 4) Page 15