“I am not greedy,” Zemenar protested angrily. “I have every right to—!’
“You’re greedy, all right,” Cimorene said from just behind Mendanbar. “And you wouldn’t know what to do with all the power you want even if you got it. Just look at you! Your hair’s like a bird’s nest.”
Zemenar scowled. Mendanbar stared at him without really seeing him, trying to remember why Cimorene’s words sounded familiar.
“The gargoyle!” he said suddenly. “Why didn’t I think of that before?”
“What gargoyle?” one of the wizards asked.
“Never mind him,” Zemenar said. “He’s only trying to distract us. All together, now: blast them!”
The line of wizards raised their staffs. Mendanbar grinned and twisted the mass of power in the sword, just as he had done two days earlier when he had grown tired of the gargoyle’s complaints. Soapy water spurted out of the empty air in front of the wizards in a hard, fast stream, as if it were being pumped through an invisible hose. The foaming spray washed over the entire line, thoroughly soaking them all. Puddles grew rapidly on the stones underfoot, and wizards shouted and slid on the suddenly slippery floor. Several of them dropped their staffs to rub at their eyes, which had apparently gotten soap in them. None of them melted.
Mendanbar felt a moment of panic. He’d been sure that his magically created soapy water would work just as well as the buckets they had hauled with them from the castle, but it didn’t seem to be doing anything. The wizards would get themselves together any minute, and what would he do then?
“Did you remember the lemon juice?” Cimorene said in his ear.
“Oh, right,” said Mendanbar. He twisted the power again, and another spray of soapy water (this time smelling strongly of lemon) squirted over the wizards. To Mendanbar’s considerable relief, they collapsed into gooey puddles, one after another. In another moment, there were no wizards left in the cave at all, only staffs, soggy robes, and a great deal of water and soapsuds.
Mendanbar studied the puddles, then set his bucket of soapy water on the ground. It didn’t look as if he’d be needing it anymore. He kept his sword out, however, since he didn’t know how many more wizards might still be outside.
“Fascinating,” said Telemain. He moved forward and knelt at the edge of a puddle. “This mess appears to be mainly the liquefying agent.”
“It does?” Cimorene asked.
“He means it’s mostly soapy water,” Mendanbar said.
,,And a good thing, too, or it would take forever to clean up,” Morwen said. “Wizards are a nuisance even when they’re gone.”
“It’s a pity it isn’t permanent,” Cimorene said. “I’d like to get rid of that Zemenar once and for all.”
“Removing their staffs will delay their reappearance,” Telemain said. “I suggest we do so before we leave.”
“Good idea,” Morwen said. She picked her way between puddles and began collecting the wizards’ staffs. Telemain went back to studying the puddle.
Cimorene turned to Mendanbar. “Now, if Kazul can just—oh, no!”
Mendanbar followed Cimorene’s gaze. The glowing, golden shield spell still blocked half of the cavern, imprisoning Kazul.
There was a long silence. Then Cimorene said, “Telemain, were those wizards right when they said they were the only ones who could take down that spell?”
“What’s that?” Telemain said, looking up. “Really, must you interrupt so constantly? I’m never going to get anything finished at this rate.”
“But think of all the interesting things you’re finding out,” Mendanbar said. “This shield, for instance. Have you ever seen anything like it before?”
“Now that you mention it, no,” Telemain replied, scrambling to his feet. “Let me look at it.”
“That was the idea,” Cimorene muttered.
They all watched while Telemain examined the shield. He walked from one end to the other, then put a hand gingerly against the glow and pushed. When nothing seemed to happen, he twisted one of his rings twice and touched it to the glow.
“Can you get rid of it?” Cimorene asked.
“I don’t know yet,” Telemain said. “I’m still checking the parameters of the primary enchantment.”
“Oh.”
The magician twisted a different ring and touched it to the glow. This time there was a spark. “Ah!” Telemain said in a satisfied tone. “I suspected as much.”
“Well, are you going to tell us about it?” Morwen said as she dropped a load of wizards’ staffs in a pile against the wall.
“It’s a self-sustaining barrier produced by a recirculation of the initial power input,” Telemain explained. “Because of the rotation effect, most physical substances cannot pass through the shield in either direction. Unlike the majority of spells, this one needs no exterior energy source, so the usual procedures for dismantling such sorceries would be completely ineffective.”
“What does that mean?” Cimorene demanded.
“The spell keeps itself up, we can’t get in or out, and we don’t have any way of getting rid of it,” Mendanbar translated.
“Then how did the cat get in?” Cimorene asked, pointing at Morwen’s large silver-and-cream cat, which had climbed onto Kazul’s back and lay curled up between her wings.
“Cats are like that,” Morwen said. “When he comes out, I’ll ask him how he did it, if you want me to, but don’t expect too much in the way of an answer. Cats enjoy being mysterious.”
“I don’t care what they enjoy,” Cimorene said. “We have to get Kazul out of there, and if that cat can help—”
“It is unlikely,” Telemain interrupted, stepping back from the glow. “The cat’s method of moving through the barrier is, in all probability, useless to anyone else. Fortunately, we have other resources.”
“We do?”
Telemain looked at Mendanbar. “While I have not had a chance to make a thorough and complete examination of that extremely intriguing weapon you carry, I have observed enough to determine that its function is fundamentally antithetical to wizards and their magic. A straightforward penetration appears quite possible and would disrupt the recirculation effect, resulting in the collapse of the self-sustaining mechanism.”
“What?” said Cimorene.
“Really, Telemain, must you?” said Morwen.
“Right,” said Mendanbar. He took three steps forward and stuck his sword into the glowing spell.
A jolt of power ran up his arm and the globe of light flashed brighter than the sun. Mendanbar’s eyes were dazzled by the flare, so he couldn’t see anything except purple spots, but he heard a loud roar, the angry hiss of a cat, and the sound of scales on stone, so he was sure the barrier was gone.
“Kazul,” Cimorene called from behind him. “It’s all right. It’s not wizards, it’s us.”
“And about time,” a deep, unfamiliar voice said. “Hello, Cimorene, Morwen. It’s nice to see you again. Who are these others?”
“This is Mendanbar, the King of the Enchanted Forest,” Cimorene answered, and Mendanbar felt her hand on his shoulder. “He’s the one who let you out. Over there is Telemain. He’s a magician, and he figured out how to do it.”
“Greetings, Your Majesty,” Mendanbar said, blinking. The purple spots began to fade at last, and he found himself staring into the green-gold eyes of an enormous female dragon. He only just managed to keep himself from backing up automatically. “Pleased to meet you.”
“Under the circumstances, most definitely so am I,” said the dragon with a smile that showed a large number of sharp-looking silver teeth. “How did you manage it?”
“Weren’t you watching?” Cimorene asked.
“Watching what?” Kazul replied. “I couldn’t see a thing except what was inside that blasted bubble with me.
“We could see you.”
“The shielding spell was unidirectional,” Telemain put in. “The external absorptive effect would enhance its efficiency.”
>
Kazul gave Telemain a hard look and smiled again, this time showing all of her teeth. “What was that again?”
Telemain looked at Kazul. Then he looked at Mendanbar. He frowned in concentration, and finally he said carefully, “The shield was a one-way spell. It soaked up everything that tried to get in from outside and used the energy to make itself stronger.”
“Very good,” Morwen said. “I was beginning to think you were hopeless.”
“I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about,” Telemain said with dignity.
A yowl of complaint made them all turn their heads. The cream-and-silver cat was standing at the edge of the wet, soapy, lemon-scented area where the wizards had melted, shaking his front paws one at a time and eying the water with extreme disfavor.
“Too bad,” Morwen told the cat. “If you hadn’t sneaked in and attracted their attention, Mendanbar might not have had to be quite so extravagant with the spray. You’ll have to get across it by yourself. Where’s Chaos?”
The cat blinked disdainfully and began washing his right paw. Kazul snorted softly. “If you want a ride, climb up,” she told the cat. “But you’d better hurry, because I’m leaving now.”
Kazul rose to her feet, shaking her wings. The cat looked up from his washing, then took two bounds and leaped from the top of a projecting rock. He disappeared behind Kazul’s shoulder, and there was a brief sound of claws scraping against scales. Then the cat appeared on Kazul’s back, riding comfortably between the dragon’s wings and looking tremendously pleased with himself.
“Wait a minute,” Mendanbar said as the dragon started toward the other end of the cave. “There may be more wizards out there.”
“Good,” said Kazul without slowing down at all. “Four days is a long time to spend inside a blank bubble, and I owe them one. Besides, I’m hungry.”
“I should think so!” Cimorene said, following the dragon. “Didn’t they give you anything to eat?”
“No, and I wouldn’t have taken it if they had,” Kazul said. Her voice became muffled as her head turned the corner at the far end of the cave. “For all I knew, those mumble mumble could have mumble dragonsbane in everything. I mumble mumble end up like Tokoz.”
“But if there are more wizards—,” Mendanbar began, then gave up and hurried after Cirnorene. Clearly, neither she nor Kazul was going to listen to him, and if there were more wizards outside it would be better if he—and his sword—were there to help.
17
In Which Mendanbar Grows Some Trees
and Makes a Wicked Suggestion
There were, however, no wizards outside the cave. There was only an enormous stretch of barren land that looked as if it had been burned. Morwen’s long-haired tabby cat sat in the ashes several feet from the mouth of the cave, surveying the waste with evident disapproval.
“There you are,” Morwen said to the cat as she joined Cimorene and Mendanbar by Kazul’s left shoulder. “Any sign of more wizards?”
The cat meowed.
“Good,” said Morwen. “Did any of the others get away?”
The cat made a growling noise.
“Very good,” said Morwen. She turned to Mendanbar. “Can you keep them from interrupting us by accident?”
“I don’t think so,” Mendanbar said. “There isn’t any magic here for me to work with.” He was horrified at the extent of the destruction. How was he going to fix it?
“So this is how they did it,” Telemain’s voice said from behind Mendanbar. He sounded pleased, as if he had just solved a very difficult puzzle. “I’d been wondering.”
“Did what?” Mendanbar asked.
“Established that shield spell,” Telemain said. “The power involved was clearly several factors beyond the generating capacity of—”
Kazul turned her head and looked at Telemain.
Telemain coughed. “There weren’t enough wizards to have done it by themselves.”
“Power,” Mendanbar said, half to himself. “They sucked all the magic out of this whole area and put it in the shield. Where did it go when the shield disappeared?”
“Into your sword, of course,” said Telemain, as if that were so obvious that everyone should have realized it without his saying anything.
“And the sword is linked to the forest,” Mendanbar said. “And this is part of the forest, or should be. So. . .”
“So all you have to do is use the sword to put the magic back where it belongs,” Cimorene finished.
“Theoretically, that should work fine,” Telemain said, frowning. “But the practical applications aren’t always that easy.”
“Nonsense,” said Cimorene. “That sword turned a whole patch of the Mountains of Morning into a bit of the Enchanted Forest when we were having all that trouble getting here. Mendanbar pulled it back into the sword then; all he has to do now is turn that spell around and push magic out. Try it, Mendanbar.”
Slowly, Mendanbar lowered the tip of the sword until it touched the ashes. He couldn’t feel anything at first. Then he realized that he was trying to reach outside himself for the threads of magic that always floated around him in the Enchanted Forest. And in this wasteland there were no threads. He frowned. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on the sword instead.
That felt more promising. He could sense power crackling along the length of the blade, lots of power, but he did not think it would be enough. He stretched deeper, using his experience outside the Enchanted Forest to pull together every last bit of magic he could reach. It was still not enough.
“I don’t think I can do it, Cimorene,” he muttered.
“You can, too,” Cimorene said, and put her hand on his shoulder encouragingly. “Try again.”
As she touched his shoulder, Mendanbar felt it come—not just magic, not only power, but all the magic and power of the Enchanted Forest itself. It washed over him, and as it did he saw patterns in it, patterns that were the threads he manipulated to work magic in the forest. And he saw how to shift the pattern just a little, filling it in with the power stolen from the forest and stored in the sword, to repair the damage the wizards had done. Without thinking, he did it.
He heard an astonished gasp from Cimorene, a snort from Kazul, a low whistle from Telemain, and a surprised noise from one of the cats.
“Well!” said Morwen.
Mendanbar opened his eyes. A thick carpet of moss, greener than Kazul’s scales, spread out in all directions from the cave mouth. Massive oaks and beeches with copper leaves stood so close together that it was hard to see more than a little way into the shadows below them, packing every part of what had been a burned-out waste moments before. All around, Mendanbar could feel threads of magic hovering in the air, ready to use for more ordinary spells.
No one said anything for a long moment. Then Telemain tore his gaze away from the restored forest and turned to Mendanbar.
“Could you do that again, slowly, so I can analyze it?” he asked.
* * *
Despite Telemain’s urging, Mendanbar refused to repeat the spell immediately, though he did offer to let the magician watch when he went to clean up the barren area near the Green Glass Pool. Then Telemain wanted to stay and investigate the melted wizards some more, but Morwen and Cimorene insisted that this was a bad idea, and eventually he gave in. He was inclined to be sulky about it until Morwen pointed out that he had fourteen more wizards’ staffs to study, including one that had belonged to the Head Wizard. It cheered him up enormously.
“You’re quite right,” he told Morwen. “Those wizards will get themselves back together before long, and once they do, they’ll come looking for their staffs. If I don’t examine the staffs before then, I’ll lose my chance. I can always melt another wizard later and study the disintegration process then.” He hurried back into the cave, reappearing a moment later with his arms full of wizards’ staffs.
“Be careful with those!” Mendanbar said as Telemain came out onto the moss-covered ground.
“Yes, there is,” Cimorene put in. “If you drop them, Mendanbar will have a lot of ugly brown marks on his nice new moss. And if they can do that, there’s no telling what else they might do.”
“Wizards store spells in their staffs,” Morwen said, nodding. “You can’t always be sure what will set one off.
Telemain looked at them with annoyance. “I suppose you’d rather I left them here. Have you no spirit of scientific investigation?”
“Not where wizards are concerned,” Cimorene muttered.
“Nonsense,” Morwen said. “I’m just as curious as you are, Telemain, but I never heard that a spirit of scientific inquiry precluded taking intelligent precautions.”
“Oh, I see,” said Telemain. “Why didn’t you just say so in the first place?”
While the others talked, Mendanbar studied the staffs, keeping a careful watch on the threads of Enchanted Forest magic that were nearest to Telemain. To his surprise, the threads showed no tendency to drift toward the magician or wind themselves into knots around the staffs he carried. Apparently, Telemain was right—the staffs would only be a minor nuisance as long as their wizards weren’t carrying them. He resolved to mention this to Telemain later. Perhaps Telemain could even help him find a way to deal with the problems the staffs caused when they did have their wizards with them.
A few minutes later, when Kazul was satisfied that there were no wizards left in the area, Mendanbar took them all back to the castle with a quick spell. He was relieved that the wizards’ staffs caused no trouble, and pleased to discover that transporting a dragon was no harder than transporting anyone else.
They materialized in the castle courtyard, just inside the moat. Willin, who had apparently been watching for their arrival, came hurrying out to meet them.
Wrede, Patricia C - Enchanted Forest 02 Page 17