Master Wizard

by James Eggebeen

  "What's that?" Kedrik asked.

  "It's the lighthouse. It's for navigation, so ships can tell where the land is at night or in the fog."

  "Ships can see that even in the fog?" Kedrik asked.

  "No. There are bells up there that ring when it gets foggy so the ships can hear them."

  "What are we looking for?"

  "Anything that would indicate that the temple is gaining a foothold here. It might be a new building that looks like a temple, or evidence that they're trying to convince the town-folk that they need the priesthood to keep them safe and healthy. I don't exactly know."

  Lorit found a young boy to guide them to an inn near the waterfront. Lorit wanted to be near the docks. If there were priests in the city, they probably came by ship from the island of Quineshua.

  The Tumbled Drum had a weathered sign showing a broken drum hanging crookedly above the entrance. The dining room was half-full of seafaring men and women.

  Lorit secured a table out of the way where they could watch the patrons come and go. As they were eating, Lorit spied a man in typical sailor garb, but he had a shaved head and his hands were soft. No calluses graced those palms. The man was definitely not a sailor.

  "There. A priest." Lorit pointed the man out to Kedrik.

  Kedrik shuddered and slouched down in his seat.

  "Don't worry. He can't find you. You're shielded, aren't you?"

  "Yes, but he makes me nervous just the same."

  "Try not to look suspicious or he'll sense you. A few priests I've met could sense shields as well as they sensed magic. The absence of magic around you gives you away if they know what to look for."

  Kedrik shook his head.

  Lorit reached out and laid his hand on Kedrik's shoulder. "Don't worry. I'll protect you. I don't have much trouble with the priesthood. They're not all that strong, especially without a temple in town to store their magic."

  "You mean they store magic in the temple?"

  "Yes. That's what they do with the boys they kill. Store up their magic in the temple so that the priests can draw on it later."

  Lorit and Kedrik ate their meal in silence as they'd done on the road so often. Lorit longed for Chihon's company. She always had something to discuss with him over meals. She challenged him, reviewing his plans and making recommendations for alterations that might reduce the risk or improve their chances for success.

  When they finished eating, Lorit stood up and tossed a few coppers on the table. "Come on. Let's go. I have an idea."

  Lorit guided Kedrik down a darkened alleyway until they came to a warehouse that stored lumber. The smell of fresh cut wood was tainted with the dark odor of burned oil, but both were muted as if the place had been abandoned. Lorit peeked inside before raising a spell to unlock and open the door.

  "In here. This is perfect." Lorit held the door and motioned Kedrik inside.

  "What are we going to do here?"

  "Set a trap."

  "A trap? For what?"

  "Not what, who." Lorit searched around to see what he had to work with. A pile of warped boards was stacked haphazardly off to the side of the warehouse beside several logs ready for the sawmill.

  "Who?" Kedrik asked.

  "The priest. I think I can lure him here."

  "Why are you going to do that?"

  "Not me. You're going to bring him here so we can have a nice chat. He would recognize my power and know a wizard was around. Your power looks much more like someone whose magic has just awakened."

  "You want me to be the bait?"

  "Yes. I'll be right here. Don't worry." Lorit looked over the pile of lumber. It would offer a good hiding place.

  "Don't worry?" Kedrik asked. "Do you know what they did to me last time they caught me?"

  "As a matter of fact, I do," Lorit answered. "I went through it myself. Most of us have." Lorit stepped behind the large pile of lumber and crouched down. "Drop your shield and materialize something. Nothing big, something simple like an apple or a loaf of bread. Those are the kind of things most boys start with."

  Kedrik dropped his shield and exposed himself. His magic flared like a bright light to Lorit's senses, and Lorit raised a new shield about the boy to damp out some of the magic. Kedrik was too powerful for the priest to believe it was a fresh awakening.

  Lorit opened his sense, watching for the priest. It didn't take long before he felt the man approaching. The priest was alone. That was a good sign. Priests like to work in pairs. That meant there was only the one in town.

  The door flew open, and the priest appeared framed in the shaft of sunlight. He still wore the sailor's garb but now held a priest's staff in his hand. A brilliant beam of green light flashed from the staff, striking Kedrik. It was a capture spell.

  Lorit hoped Kedrik wouldn't panic before the priest entered the building. He'd reassured the boy that he was perfectly safe, but Lorit's hopes were quickly dashed as power flared up around Kedrik, and the priest's spell broke.

  The priest lowered his staff and fled. Before Lorit could react, the priest was out the door and down the alleyway. "Retardo vos." Lorit reached out his hand and cast a spell to stop the priest.

  The man slowed as his steps faltered. He struggled to keep moving, as if his feet were suddenly made of lead and his legs of wood. Lorit ran over to him and turned him back toward the warehouse.

  "Come with me. We need to have a chat.”

  Lorit sat the priest on a pile of wood and stood before him.

  "Who are you?"

  "A...Awich," the priest stuttered.

  "Who sent you here?"

  "The priesthood."

  The priest fought against Lorit's spell. His hands fidgeted and his feet tried to run, but he was held fast. Lorit leaned in to get a closer look at the man. "Why are you here?"

  "To bring Ran's mercy to the people."

  "What is your mission?" Lorit demanded.

  "To show them the way. I bring enlightenment."

  "Why were you after this boy?" Lorit stood up, hands on his hips.

  The priest shook his head.

  "Speak!" Lorit demanded.

  The priest just shook his head once more. Lorit leaned in close to the man's face. "I said speak or you will regret your silence."

  The priest shook his head ever so slightly, but this time, blood flowed from his mouth. He spat something on the floor and blood rushed out his mouth and down his face. He'd bitten his tongue out.

  Lorit gathered his power, ready to turn the priest to ash where he sat.

  "Wait. Search him first," Kedrik said.

  Kedrik scrambled over and stuck his hand into the priest's pocket. He pulled out a vial filled with a green liquid that glowed eerily in the darkness of the warehouse.

  "Good idea. See if he has anything else."

  Kedrik quickly searched the priest, but the man had nothing else on his person beside a purse with a few golds and some silvers.

  "Step back," Lorit said.

  Kedrik stepped back from the priest as Lorit raised a fireball in his hand. It shone violet and spun lazily, throwing off sparks. Lorit waited for it to get so hot he could barely hold it.

  "Wait! It's starting to glow." Kedrik held up the vial he'd taken from the priest. The green liquid glowed like the light of a firefly.

  Chapter 7

  Tass stood in the dark stone hallway and straightened her long black robes to make herself presentable before she entered Sulrad's study. Sulrad was fastidious and had turned more than one under priest to ash for entering his study in less than perfect attire. She brushed the wrinkles from her robe and ran her fingers through her graying hair. With the power she had, she could have used an illusion to make herself look young, but she preferred to show her age. She'd earned each of the wrinkles on her face and each of the pounds of excess on her rotund frame. She still had the respect and fear of the temple staff no matter her appearance. She was second in command, and everyone knew it. Everyone respected her for it, except
Sulrad.

  She stood before the aged door to his study as she had so often before. As the High Priest of Quineshua, Sulrad occupied the pinnacle of power in the temple of Ran. Not that his study showed it. It was deep in the bowels of the ancient temple. The Old Section, they called it. It was stark and free of decoration, much like the man she was about to see. All business, no flair, no gold or fine furniture for Sulrad.

  Rumor had it that this study was first constructed when the original temple was built. Rumor also had it that the man who occupied it was the same Sulrad who built the temple four hundred summers ago. Sulrad was his name...not his title, as some believed.

  Tass rapped lightly on the weathered wooden door and waited to be acknowledged. She was confident that Sulrad knew she was there well before she knocked, but making her wait was one of his little jabs, meant to show her that he was the one in a position of power.

  Tass grumbled under her breath. His little insults had come to bother her more and more lately. She was High Priestess of Ran, not some under priest to be summoned to an audience without warning and kept standing outside like a naughty school child.

  "Come in, Tass," came the smooth voice of the High Priest.

  Tass entered the immaculate office and stood before Sulrad's desk, just as all of Sulrad's visitors were required to do. He said it gave him an advantage when meeting with his subordinates. To Tass, it was another little reminder, that even after the long summers working closely together, Sulrad still thought of her as a subordinate. It was that arrogance that had finally driven her to this point. To the point where she thought it was time to challenge him directly for control of the temple.

  She swallowed and began. "Your power is weak...you're growing old. So old I don't know how old you truly are...you're fading. It's time to designate a successor and begin the transition." Her voice was shaky, less confident than she'd hoped. This was it; the challenge had been made. If she survived this encounter, she might end up as the supreme leader of the temple of Ran and its priesthood. If only Sulrad had the good graces to age and die, she'd already have inherited the position.

  Tass shifted her weight from one foot to another, glancing momentarily down at the ornate rug that covered the cold stone floor before Sulrad's desk. The carpet was placed there to aid in the rapid cleaning of Sulrad's study, should one of his guests lose control of himself or find himself turned into a pile of ash. The High Priest was a practical man but fastidious about his study.

  Sulrad sat behind his large desk stacked with parchment and scrolls. Near the center of the desk stood a small statue of a maiden in ceremonial robes. She held the sacrificial knife in her arms, cradling the sacred blade against her throat. It was the only decoration that the High Priest allowed himself.

  Sulrad withdrew the knife and fondled it carefully. It was identical to the one found on every altar in every temple in the land. Sulrad turned the knife point down and touched it to the base of the statue. He spun it between his fingers and released it, watching intently as the blade twirled briskly, slowed down, wobbled, and then clattered to the desk.

  He looked up at Tass, his gaunt, birdlike face pinched up as if he'd just smelled something offensive. "You think I'm weak?"

  "You haven't demonstrated your power for almost a summer. You've remained here on Quineshua since that unfortunate incident with the wizard Zhimosom." Tass swallowed again. Her throat was suddenly dry and her voice cracked. "They say your usefulness is past, that it's time for new blood to take up the mantle and lead the temple."

  "Younger blood? Yours, perhaps?" Sulrad picked up the knife again and tapped the point lightly against the statue. He placed the knife carefully back into the arms of the maiden and lowered his hands to his chair. He sat there calmly, looking at Tass in silence. Without warning, the knife jumped from the arms of the statue and flew straight for Tass's heart.

  She hardened her shields to stop it, but the blade kept coming. Tass panicked and reached for the temple's magical stores. She drew power from the altar and the temple itself as she struggled to stop the blade a scant few digits from her chest.

  Tass reached out and seized the knife by the handle, plucking it from the air. She gestured at Sulrad with the point. "Don't pull your tricks on me. I know you're weak, and that leaves you open to any priest who wants to challenge you. You should be thankful that I've discouraged anyone from coming after you."

  "You've discouraged them?" Sulrad raised his hands and folded them on top of the short stack of parchment before him.

  "I've discouraged anyone from challenging you," Tass said. "I've started a rumor that you're building up a reserve of personal power in preparation for your final move against the Wizard's Council."

  Tass relaxed just a little. Maybe he was listening to her after all. How could he argue with her? His powers were waning. It was time for him to step down. She pressed on with her carefully rehearsed argument.

  "You have me to thank that you're not assaulted by every mid-level priest who has visions of a quick rise to the top. I've been your faithful..." Sulrad raised his hand and the words stuck in her throat.

  "And yet, you challenge me?" Sulrad reached out his hand.

  The knife heated up, and searing pain shot through Tass's hand until she could hold it no more. His power wrested the knife from her hand even as she held tight and fought him for control of the blade. It flew straight for Sulrad, who deftly caught it and replaced it in the arms of the maiden, then slouched in his chair. "Do you really think it wise to challenge me? There has never been a woman in a position like the one you currently hold. You've already risen higher than most ever will, yet you think you could lead the temple better than I." Sulrad leaned back and crossed his legs. "Would the High Priests accept you?"

  "They will, in time." Tass had already started planting the seeds of her story wherever she'd been this last summer. She'd worked hard to gather the endorsement of key priests and the removal of any of those that wouldn't support her.

  "Can you command the respect of the High Priests around the land? Not just here, in Quineshua?" Sulrad gestured to the wide expanse of the temple empire even though all they could see was the cold stone walls of his study.

  "I can." Tass placed her hands on her hips.

  "Prove it to me, then, and I will step down. Show me that you have what it takes to run the temple, and it's yours."

  Tass's heart quickened. Sulrad was going to allow her to ascend to his seat. All she had to do was prove it. She already had much of her plan in place. All she had to do was topple a few dissenters and encourage a few reluctant supporters and...and Tass grew warm. She pulled at her robe. It was suddenly hot and beads of sweat formed on her forehead, then dripped down her face.

  Tass looked at Sulrad as he waved his hand in the air almost casually. Power rose up against her, increasing in intensity. It was more power than she thought the priest possessed. Was he really going to attack her right here? Right now? Just as he'd conceded a major victory to her? Or had his words been meant to distract her?

  She hardened her shields and prepared for the worst. When the magical assault came, it was pathetic, weak, and feeble. She felt Sulrad's connection to the temple's magical stores and how he drew from them, but his personal power was almost nonexistent. She smiled. Maybe she could win this challenge yet. She reached for her own personal reserves. If she could end this battle quickly, she could take the High Priest's seat today.

  The heat of Sulrad's incantation washed over Tass, but it was ineffective. She smiled. Victory would be hers, and it would be sweet.

  She prepared the final blow and muttered the spell that would end Sulrad's life, but something was amiss. Sulrad drew power from some new source. One that Tass had never seen before. It was not the temple, but something else. Something irresistible. Something quite strange to her experience.

  The smile quickly faded from her lips as the magical force constricted around her body. She couldn't breathe. Tass wriggled, trying to free herse
lf from its grasp, but she could not.

  Sulrad looked lazily at her. "Weak? Ineffective?"

  Tass struggled against the spell. She had to find a hold on it to break free. How had he done it? Sulrad was weak and old. She should have had no problem handling him, yet here she was, arms pinned to her side, suffocating.

  Tass gasped, but with each breath she let out, the spell constricted and she could not breathe in, no matter how hard she tried. She gasped again, taking shallow breaths, but it didn't help.

  Her vision faded, and bright sparkles flooded the edges of her sight. She grew dizzy and felt herself falling as the room turned black.

  Chapter 8

  Queen Ukina sat alone in her room after Sir Adane left with the dragon's egg. The trappings of royalty seemed hollow, mocking her. She was the queen, the rightful heir to the throne, yet the nobles treated her as a naughty child in need of admonition. The hearth was cold now, the coals flickering red, on the verge of falling dark, and the servants had all been sent to bed, but Ukina couldn't sleep. She had to come up with an idea to help Sir Adane get the egg to Amedon. Lorit would know what to do with it.

  The nobles would be here in the morning, and she had no choice but to allow them into the treasury. That was clear. She had given her word, and if her word was worthless, then so was the crown. She had to keep her word, but that would ultimately lead the nobles and the temple to the realization that the egg was missing. They would soon discover that Sir Adane had gone and track him down. Ukina needed a way to give Sir Adane a head start so that his chances of reaching Amedon would be better.

  She called for her coachman.