The Sorcerer of Wands: Azabar's Icicle Part 2

by Jem I Kelley

  Azabar addressed the remaining Argent soldier machines, the two that hadn't left the room with Theodore Stig.

  “Do you understand me?”

  Metallic voices replied.

  “Yes.”

  “You, guard door and kill any but our own forces who attempt to enter. You, search this room, make sure it is secure.”

  Chapter 65: At Azabar's Mercy

  Alicia’s whispered to Aden.

  “What do we do?”

  He tried to sound calm.

  “We’ve got nowhere to run to. Don’t do anything stupid, that thing might not spot us.”

  In the otherwise quiet room, the clunking footsteps of the Argent soldiers seemed loud. Aden heard one move to the door. The other stomped past where the two children hid.

  Aden heard a flutter and squawks from the boxes.

  “Not animals.” It was Azabar’s voice. “Search for humans.”

  “Squeaky creatures squash... funny… red oil.”

  More squawks and squeals.

  Azabar’s voce thundered.

  “Caduishka! I said forget animals, search for humans.”

  “As you command, master.”

  Aden could hear the steam machine move amongst the cages.

  Alicia put her mouth near his ear.

  “If that thing catches us it’ll kill us on the spot.”

  “I know I’m trying to think what to do.”

  He racked his brains for a way out.

  “We might be able to dodge it. I don’t think it could run as fast as us.”

  Alicia snorted.

  “It doesn’t need to, not with the other one guarding the door. Then there’s Azabar, he’s got his lightning wand.”

  “We can’t just stay here.”

  “I think we should walk into the open and engage Azabar in conversation.”

  “What!”

  Aden had raised his voice and both froze and listened. The Argent machine soldier continued to search the animal cages. Alicia whispered:

  “I think we must let him know we know who he is and that we are fascinated by the legend surrounding him. If we can get him talking we should be able to get close.”

  Aden took a deep breath. Alicia bit her lip as she waited for his reply.

  “Okay, fine, let do it. It might give me the chance I need.”

  A fatalistic expression entered Alicia’s face.

  “Right.”

  She pushed branches aside and walked from the conifers. Aden followed suite. His heart thumped fast, and sweat poured down his back. This was the most frightened he’d ever felt in his life.

  Azabar saw them and surprise formed on his features.

  “Danger!”

  The Argent soldier beside the door spoke. The creature was facing them, balls of steam rising in increasing frequency from the small pipe on the side of its head.

  “Humans, danger!”

  The second Argent creature had spotted them, Aden turned to see the machine clunking towards them.

  Alicia dropped to her knees raised her arms in the air.

  “Azabar, Ice Lord, Ancient ruler of the kingdoms of the North, Master of Wands and Rods, have mercy on us.”

  The Argent soldier was drawing near now. Its heavy steps were like a countdown in Aden’s mind to the inevitable end.

  Azabar had drawn his lightning wand and levelled it at Alicia. The Argent soldier came to a stop behind them, Aden had to look, had to see what it was doing. He turned and saw the creature had pulled its wrist sword to one side, ready to slice clean through his neck. The sword swung…

  “Stop!”

  It was Azabar’s order. The sword hung a hand-breadth from Aden. The Argent soldier puffed steam at a frantic pace. Aden felt faint.

  Azabar curled a finger.

  “I wish to speak to you children.”

  Aden swapped glances with Alicia, he saw she was shaking. He helped her to her feet and the two approached the sorcerer. The Argent soldier stomped behind, wrist-sword raised.

  Azabar’s pale handsome face scrutinised them for a moment; his cruel eyes looking from one to the other.

  “You know me.”

  Alicia bowed.

  “At school they teach of the great Lord Azabar.”

  “Indeed?” purred Azabar, “That is how it should be. What do they teach?”

  “That you were the genius who invented rechargeable wands; that you created the ‘Icicle’, the ice-golem wand. That you conquered much of the North and that you disappeared after the siege of Haverland, a thousand year ago.”

  Azabar kept his want aimed.

  “It is true.”

  “But… a thousand years later you return? I… I don’t understand how this is possible?” Asked Alicia.

  Azabar’s eyes narrowed and Alicia hesitated.

  “If… if… you don’t wish to tell us, you don’t have to.”

  Azabar’s expression relaxed and he chuckled coldly.

  “I thank you for giving me choice. I am at great risk divulging secret to you two young ones, no doubt.”

  Aden sensed Azabar felt himself safe enough to tell them anything. After all, he thought could ensure they never told anyone else. As he speaks thought Aden, he will become even more relaxed. I need to pick my time correctly, when I am most likely to succeed; it is not just a matter of dealing with Azabar, I must hope Alicia and I are safe from the Argent creatures too.

  Aden licked dry lips: “The history books say you went to the Deep South after the fall of Haverland.”

  Azabar's gaze switched from Alicia to Aden. The creature seemed impressed with their knowledge of him.

  “Ach, yes I did.”

  “But then the history books go silent. You were believed dead.”

  The vampire smiled proudly.

  “As you see, history books wrong. Before you die, I will give my story.

  “First I went to Jungles far… far to South. There I met Vampire King who bestow me with gift of immortality in return for construction of wands. I stay at court, plan return to the North, a mistake. Neighbouring tribes, they invade kingdom and depose King. All vampires cast into urns by this tribe. There we stay prisoner.”

  Aden exchanged stunned looks with Alicia.

  “You were held in these urns for all this time? A thousand years?”

  A haunted, pained look came into Azabar's eyes for a moment, but he blinked and it was gone, replaced by the cold arrogance he normally displayed.

  “For sure, thereabouts. You are rightly shocked. Imagine how long a thousand year is. A thousand year cramped into nothing more than giant pot; how bored you would become, how desolate. Can you imagine such a nightmare? I think not.

  “Yet, we vampires survived. There was small hole in each urn, plugged with cork. If tribe felt cruel, they would let light shine through hole to torture us, Caduishka! If we gave them advice they would dribble blood through holes so we could feed. Over years, we become trusted counsel. Minor gods, they thought us by the fifth hundred year of imprisonment. Highly valued; but, never trusted for release.”

  Alicia’s voice was quiet with shock.

  “How did you escape?”

  Azabar turned his head and spat.

  “Luck, fate, call it what you will. Over thousand year the jungle tribe grow, become Empire, thanks to vampire counsel, it become Empire of Kush.”

  “I... I’ve heard of it.”

  Azabar nodded.

  “Dazarian country was northerly trade partner with Kush. Dazarian was cause of my release. One of Kush’s princes wishes to travel to Dazarian, for to negotiate lucrative contract. He brought me for advice. We sail in the pirate ship ‘Black Hand’. Forty league from Dazarian coast other pirate ship attack the Black Hand. The buccaneer known as ‘Long Knife Carter’ sank her: most cargo lost or captured. Somehow, my urn, it floats free, overlooked. Fortune, for sure, I wash ashore. Urn found by man who takes home. I speak to man of my importance, from hole in urn, and man sell urn to Lord Kessk
ran. The rest, you can imagine, for sure.”

  Aden felt his head swim. Piecing together what Azabar had just said with what he’d heard earlier at the Jester statue, his thoughts turned to Groucho Gaultz and to Bran the sailor. If Groucho had not found the urn on the beach; or, earlier, if Bran had prevented all the wreckage from the Black Hand drifting away: then history would have been different. The chain of events, which led to Azabar’s return, could have been broken at any of several links. Now there remained only one last chance to stop him.

  Alicia bowed again.

  “Thank you for trusting us with this information, Lord Azabar.”

  Azabar’s smile was contemptuous.

  “Trust? No. Soldier, hold them.”

  The Argent machine grabbed both children before they could run. One metallic hand grabbed each. Aden winced as the metal fingers tightened their grips on his shoulder.

  Alicia’s voice shook.

  “W… what are you going to do to me?”

  Azabar lifted his left hand and showed his palm. From the three holes, red tendrils emerged. The tendrils twisted and curled like worms.

  Alicia shot Aden a terrified glance.

  Azabar moved his hand over Alicia’s face, so the palm covered her nostrils. Alicia squirmed in the sorcerer’s grasp and let out a muffled groan. Aden pictured the tendrils moving up her nostrils seeking a small artery from which to draw fresh blood.

  Azabar addressed Aden.

  “Vampires of South feed in ways different to vampires of North.”

  Aden’d had his own hand in his coat pocket and felt the raised dots and turned the button of the Disc-Artefact so those dots converged with the dots around it.

  He’d borrowed this artefact from Ab’n Mere when he’d visited him this afternoon and told him he and Bliss might need an extra artefact if they got into trouble later that day. Ab’n Mere had lent Aden the artefact willingly: the artefact whose destination was the circle high on the plateau and which Ab’n Mere used to transport there when he journeyed from the Duggiral town. Ab’n Mere had used the artefact to take all three of them to the dome by the glass-houses. Then he had promised the friends he would make the trek back to the stone circle by foot, and would be there by the time they sneaked to the statue that evening. The friends had used their own Disc-Artefact to return them to Haverland, and so both artefacts had been primed to travel to the circle on the mountainside at Blissaden.

  Aden tried to ignore the fears that raced around him now. He knew there were rules and limits to what the artefact would transport; he knew them by hearsay and experience; he didn’t know their exact nature because he hadn’t been to disc-man school.

  Transportation of items only occurs if an activated artefact touches them. Except if, items are inside a container touched by an activated artefact. He was sure this was how it worked. This was why the Argent soldiers inside the disc-touched container were transported; but why a thousand Argent soldiers holding hands wouldn’t arrive here if one were touched with the artefact.

  The Argent soldier holding Aden’s arm shouldn’t come to Blissaden; not if Aden was correct about how the artefact worked. The trouble is, he wasn’t really sure.

  As Alicia squirmed and her eyes bulged in fear, Aden pulled the artefact from his pocket and thrust it so it connected to both Alicia’s face and Azabar’s clasping hand. He pressed the brass button on the artefact.

  There was the familiar disorientation.

  The grip on Aden’s shoulder, by the Argent soldier, vanished.

  Dizziness hit him and he staggered to the right.

  He put out a balancing arm to stop falling.

  After the dim warehouse, the light was blinding, the heat intense.

  Alicia had dropped to the ground.

  Aden heard screaming, and it was Azabar.

  The vampire-sorcerer tried to sweep the cloak over his body, to protect it from the light. Aden leapt forward, knocked him to the ground, and pulled at the cloak to expose Azabar's face to the burning light of the red tinged sun.

  Burning lines grew across Azabar’s skin as the sun ate into the pale flesh. Azabar screams rose in pitch as the two fought over the cloak.

  Small flames flickered from Azabar's head and gouts of smoke erupted from different parts of his body. Azabar leapt to his feet, and discarding the cloak, ran, burning, towards the door set into the mountain.

  Before he reached halfway his body exploded into a ball of fire and smoke.

  All that remained of Azabar were the burnt cloak, the burnt other clothing he had worn, the wands that had fallen to the ground during the struggle, and the Disc-Artefact to Argent.

  Aden staggered over to Alicia and held out a hand.

  “You okay?”

  She took his hand and stood.

  Her voice was weak.

  “Yes.”

  Aden picked up both Disc-Artefacts, from where they had fallen during the struggle, and put them into his coat pocket.

  He heard a noise and looked up.

  The door into the mountain-side had opened and Bliss hobbled out, her leg splinted; Ab’n Mere helping her.

  Aden felt relief spread through him.

  “You’re alive.”

  Bliss nodded.

  “Looks like it.”

  “What about the ice-golem?”

  Bliss shrugged nonchalantly.

  “It got giddy as soon as it arrived, staggered a few steps, and fell off the plateau. I didn’t even have to wait for it to melt.”

  She looked at Alicia, and her smile dropped.

  “What’s she doing here?”

  Alicia’s expression darkened.

  “What’s it got to do with you?”

  Aden felt a tickle in his stomach. The danger of the last few hours, made his and Bliss’s troubles with Alicia seem insignificant. The tickle grew and as he watched Alicia and Bliss glare at each other, he couldn’t help but chuckle.

  The chuckle became a laugh and tears rolled down his eyes.

  Epilogue

  “And that was it? Azabar was dead? It was all over?”

  Aden lay back on the cushions. “Nothing left but cinders. Sunlight and vampires don't mix.”

  “What happened next?”

  “Bliss had to rest in bed a few days because her leg got infected. Then we had the procession through the city. That was two days before you got here. Everyone was cheering at us and the King said that it was a long time since Haverland’d had proper heroes. He gave us the freedom of the city, said he’d pay for us to have a building in the Disc-Man Centre and he made us knights. You know all that.”

  “What about Sardohan?”

  Aden made a face. “He said that he was on Haverland’s side all the time and was just planning to trap Azabar.”

  “Liar!”

  “You know that, I know that. But, there’s no proof. Sardohan said he told Azabar falsehoods, so that he’d be trusted until the ‘icicle’ had been found. He said that he would have followed Azabar out of the city that night and tricked the ‘icicle’ away from him.”

  “Rot!”

  “There’s nothing we can do about it.”

  “What about the big leather belly thing he used to smuggle Azabar’s head into the country?”

  “Probably torn up and the pieces burnt. We’ve got no evidence at all that he didn't really have a sick swollen stomach.”

  “Alicia?”

  “Oh, she doesn’t talk to us again.”

  “I thought she was made a knight too?”

  “She was, and she was a real hero in helping me finish off Azabar; but, she still doesn’t talk to Bliss and me any more. She’s gone all snooty again. She told me that she doesn’t want anything to do with people who steal artefacts from her nation and that if I ever got to Dazarian I’ll be arrested. She also said she would try to get the laws of Haverland changed so that if the accuser has dropped a case, like Sardohan did with Bliss and me, then the accuser can open the case again at a later date.”
>
  “Does she now, the little minx? What about the half-ogre, Gnashlok?”

  “The police haven’t found him. Hamble saw him limp off; but, didn’t have the strength to follow.”

  “Is he all right?”

  “Hamble?”

  “Yes.”

  “He’s fine. He’s on a little holiday in the countryside at the moment.”

  “Prince Svensson?”

  “Marti’s going back to Novagorad next week. Not that he’s really needed in a hurry, you know that: the bugbears raced back North, when they learnt Azabar was dead.”

  “It’s a shame the Argent soldiers didn’t give up so easily.”

  Aden winced. “True.”

  That one small squad of machine soldiers killed three hundred and twenty three Haverland soldiers before being destroyed themselves. Aden shuddered to think what would have happened if more Argent machine soldier reinforcements had come though. Theodore Stig got caught in the fighting and accidentally killed.

  The Argent Disc-Artefact was now under lock and key in a guarded location known only to the King and his special advisers.

  Aden looked at the shaft of light near him and the motes that floated inside of it. They were sitting on the balcony of a fifth floor room in the dwarven hall on Blissaden. Arun Ibid had given the room to the two friends.

  “We’ve already begun to trade pieces for a new Duggiral museum, in exchange for glass panes. We should be able to open our glass pane stall on the market soon. Hacknor came up to us on the day of our knighting. He shook our hands and told us he’d rip up all the rules for getting a stall on the market, just for us, because of what we’d done for Haverland.”

  “Hacknor? He’s the one you’ve moaned about in your letters. He’s the strict one isn’t he?”

  Aden remembered Granddad Todd’s account of how Hacknor’s sons had died in the Southern Haverland Mountains, and he felt strangely defensive of the market supervisor.

  “Oh, he’s not so bad really.”

  “Well, I’m glad about the stall, anyway. What have you got in the box there?”

  “I thought I’d tell you everything first, before showing you. It’s glass of sorts. Not Duggiral glass though.”

  The box was as long as Aden's arm; it lay beside him on the cushions. He lifted it and placed it on his lap, then slid back the lid. Nestled in silk were two carved lengths of glass; the pieces looked as if they were broken halves of a whole.”