Princess of Wisdom: An Epic Fantasy Series (Wisdom Saga Book 2)
Page 7
Eldred looked thoughtful. “You should have been a wizard, Kemp,” he said. “Your thought about light is a good one. That would be the safest place to keep it since its power seems to diminish somewhat during the daylight hours.”
“So he stored it someplace hidden where the sun can shine on it?” Scrubby asked. At the silence that followed he recognized the answer to his question. “Oh, that’s right. There’s no sun at night,” He lapsed into silence with the rest of them.
The sound of Mitchal’s knife thunking into the end of the log had stopped when the conversation did and they all jumped and turned toward him as he loudly cleared his throat. “Can’t some of you folks throw lightning bolts and such?” he asked. “That’s light of some sort, isn’t it?”
“And people say we wizards are so smart,” Eldred said, smiling his approval. “We may have powers normal folks don’t, but that doesn’t make us smart; only dangerous.” He turned back to the others.
“It makes sense that Gregory has hidden the darkness he collected in a place he felt would be safe and placed a binding spell of some sort around it – perhaps a spell of light, as Mitchal suggests.” His eyebrows drew down in thought. “That would be a very difficult spell. I doubt that I could manage it and I would not have thought Gregory capable of something that advanced.”
His eyes lost their focus as his mind returned to Three Oaks when they had arrived back in Wisdom from the confrontation at Blackstone four years earlier. There, they had found Gregory the only survivor of the confrontation with five of the demons summoned by Greyleige. The bloated corpses of the other two wizards had been devoid of any residual traces of magical potential, and that had left Eldred with a niggling sense of discomfort.
Unexpectedly, Eldred remembered the feeling of satisfaction in the brutality of the immolation of the five demons that he had sensed in Gregory’s mind at the time. He now recognized it as one he had seen more than a hundred years before.
There had been a wizard at that time named Waldron who had risen rapidly in standing and powers. He was deeply concerned with the problems facing the world and had worked tirelessly to make right the wrongs that he found. In his quest to aid men, he recklessly gathered power to himself so that he could affect the changes he saw were needed. It was clear that he was a wizard destined for greatness and fame. Upon his ascension to High Altarn of the Wizards’ Guild, he had taken the name Greyleige.
Eldred shuddered visibly as his eyes refocused and he looked around to find the others staring at him strangely. “What were you seeing?” Bartholomew asked him.
“Waldron,” Eldred replied. Bartholomew’s eyebrows raised in recognition.
“I fear Gregory may be lost whether we find him or not,” Eldred said softly, “and I fear even more what he may have wrought in his desire to help.” He shook his head gently as if in sorrow before looking up with grim determination in his expression.
“Let us begin the search, then. We don’t know where to look, and we’re uncertain what it is we seek, but we know with certainty that it must be found.”
“Let’s wait for Wil,” Scrubby said. “He’ll be able to help us when he comes out with Caron. She’s been gone a long time. They’ll probably come walking out of that Forest any time now.”
14
The sun was low in the afternoon sky when, unseen by anyone, Caron appeared as if from nowhere at the edge of the Old Forest at the same spot she had disappeared, slightly more than three weeks earlier. She looked around quickly to see if anyone was watching and breathed a sigh of relief when she found she was alone.
After wiping at her eyes which were swollen and red from crying, she transferred the long bundle wrapped in rags she carried from her left arm to her right and started to walk down the road toward Three Oaks where she hoped she could have at least a short period of rest before she had to face the companions and her own doubts and fears about the task she knew lay ahead of her.
Back at the wizards’ meeting hall, Scrubby had predicted her return only minutes before. He would be bitterly disappointed, however, when he learned Caron had returned without Wil.
Albrecht looked up as she walked through the door. The game of stones which he had been playing with himself was immediately forgotten when he recognized the princess.
“Highness,” he exclaimed as he came out from behind the counter to greet her, “where are the others?”
“The others are not yet aware I have returned, Albrecht. I came straightaway here. I am tired – more tired than I have ever been. I feel like I could sleep for a month. Please don’t tell them I am here when they return. They’ll find out soon enough when I awake and join them.”
“There aren’t too many of them left, Highness,” Albrecht said. “Tingle and Thisbe left in Kemp’s wagon two weeks ago taking Peg and Mattie and the children with them.” He paused a moment before he added, “Philip is with them, also. He was hurt defending the boys against one of the darkness-touched.”
At that, Caron clutched the rag wrapped bundle closer to her and started toward the stairs.
“Use the last room on the left side of the hallway,” Albrecht called softly as she started up the stairs.
Scrubby pushed open the door to Three Oaks and stepped back to allow Roland, Kemp and Mitchal to precede him into the common room. Albrecht looked up as they entered and, quickly judging that they had passed a difficult afternoon, drew each of them a mug of ale.
Heading for the kitchen, he tapped Roland lightly on the shoulder. As the duke looked up, Albrecht wagged his head to indicate he should follow.
“The princess returned about an hour ago,” he told Roland quietly when he entered the kitchen. “She is exhausted and asked me to tell no one she had returned.” Before Roland could ask the question, Albrecht volunteered, “I directed her to your room.”
Roland could hear her breathing deeply and regularly in her sleep as he let himself quietly into the room. Removing only his boots and weapons, he lay down gently beside her and placed his hand softly on the shoulder just showing from the blanket covering her. Rolling onto her side, Caron took his hand and, without waking, wound it about her waist as if it was a blanket. Their joined hands came to rest covering her stomach; covering their son. A single unconscious purr of contentment escaped as she exhaled, and she dropped even deeper into her sleep, warmed by the love beside her.
Not daring to move lest he wake her, Roland closed his eyes and relaxed for the first time in more than three weeks. As darkness filled the night sky outside Three Oaks, the Duke of Confirth slept soundly as his wife dreamed of the man she had just left.
The early morning sun streamed in through the window of the little cottage in the Old Forest. Caron sat on the edge of the bed looking out at the wonder of the world as it had been in the elder days before the elves departed. She brushed at her long black hair, working to restore the luster it had lost during her trip into the Forest in search of Wil.
In the bed behind her, Wil slept soundly, the bedclothes covering him only from his waist down. Caron smiled as she looked over at him, then back out at the Forest.
It may be that there is something wrong with me, she thought dreamily, but I no longer care. Wil was right: I am capable of loving both of them equally and it is a glorious thing.
Seeing Wil stir, she lay back down beside him and propped herself up on one elbow to watch his face as he awoke. As his eyes opened she ran her finger softly across his lips and felt them react to the touch with a soft nibbling kiss.
“You must be absolutely starved by now,” he said. “You never ate your breakfast yesterday morning and you were hungry then.”
“I guess I had a deeper hunger that had to be satisfied first,” she replied, “but now that you mention it, I am starved for some real food.” She stood and walked over to retrieve her clothes from where they had ended up on the floor.
Caron could feel his eyes on her as she moved and took pleasure now in the knowledge that it excited him and the m
anner in which that knowledge titillated her. “I feel positively wanton,” she said, turning as she dressed so he could enjoy her the more. He said nothing, but the expression on his face and in his eyes spoke more eloquently than words ever could.
Wil reached for his own clothes as she finished dressing. “I think I’d better start breakfast or we’ll end up dying of starvation at this rate.”
After eating an enormous meal, Caron found herself feeling more energetic than she had in a long time. “Show me the Forest, Wil,” she said. “I want you to show me what my forefathers created.” So they walked hand in hand, and he told her what he had learned from Gleneagle’s shade and from just being within the Forest for the past several years.
“I know exactly how the elves felt, Caron,” Wil said. “It’s as if I have become a part of the Forest myself.” As he said that, his face became somber. “Actually, in a sense, I am a part of the Forest. I became a part of it at the moment of the collision of the spells Greyleige and I summoned.”
Caron looked at Wil carefully, concerned by his expression. “What do you mean, Wil?” she asked, a feeling of alarm growing in her.
There was a long moment as Wil sought the correct words. “I am not what I seem, Caron. The shell that was my body was vaporized at Blackstone. My essence – my spirit, if you will – became a part of the larger magic of the Old Forest which was scattered across a vast space.
“My spirit fled first to your side where you felt it near you for a short time. Because Gleneagle’s elfstone is timeless and could not be destroyed, I willed it returned to you. In my longing to make you know I was near, I reached out in the only way I could find – you felt my touch as a breeze upon your cheek.”
Caron reached up and touched the side of her face where she had felt the caress of that breeze.
Wil continued, “I sensed that I had but a short time to remain near you, for I could feel the Old Forest pulling at me, working to draw me toward it. You see, the powers of good have a center in this world which the powers of darkness do not. The Forest summoned its powers back to it like a magnet attracting iron filings and my essence was drawn along with them.
“The darkness has no such locus in our world, so it remained scattered, only to coalesce over time. It has begun drifting down all these years later, returning in bits and pieces to work its evil once again.”
They walked for a time in silence as Caron worked to absorb all she had heard. At last she looked toward him. “Peg?” she asked.
“The loss of Morgan was a grievous blow to my spirit, but when Kemp brought Peg to the tent where you were comforting Scrubby, I was desolated. Kemp’s anguish as he stood over her broken body was heartrending; here was this gentle spirit with no ambition above being allowed to love Kemp. That gentle spirit was being called to the other side and I despaired with the rest of you. It was Scrubby’s plea to the empty air that made me realize there might be one more thing I could do before I was drawn back to the Forest.
“At the moment that Kemp kissed her lips for what he believed would be the only one they would share upon this side, I saw the opportunity to allow his strength to flow to her. It was Kemp’s own strength that saved her, not mine.”
Caron shook her head in exasperation. “You are far too modest, Wil,” she scolded gently. “Like Morgan, she would be nothing more than a memory without you.”
They walked a moment more before she spoke again. “Why did you wait so long to contact me? I tried to get to you. I waited and waited, but he was there for me and you weren’t.” She knew Wil would know who and what it was she spoke of.
“I was aware of your attempts, Caron,” he said. “But I was without substance until recently.”
She turned at that point to look at him thoughtfully. “You said before that your body was obliterated at Blackstone,” she said, “so how is it that I find a very warm and real body beside me now?”
“My powers were magnified in the explosion of magics,” he replied. “More accurately, a large part of the magics of the Old Forest became a part of me, and I a part of them. I am a construct – a reconstruction, if you will – from the memory of my essence. I had to learn how to reassemble myself from the elements. It took a long time to create what you see. In the process, I found that my powers were far greater than they had been before. In fact, it seems as if I have barely begun to explore the extent of my powers and already they frighten me. But more, they frighten Gleneagle. Power such as that with which I joined during the collision has the potential to be ruinous to all life should it be corrupted as was Greyleige’s. Your ancestor is unwilling to risk exposing me to the possibility of corruption by the darknesses that are coalescing and falling to earth.
“You are obviously aware of the darknesses, but they are not the true danger to our world. While evil, they have no direction other than sickness and death, but they have summoned a demon from the other side. It is that which we must defeat, Caron.”
He looked into her unnaturally dark eyes and hesitated for a long moment before saying what he had been dreading having to tell her since before her arrival. “I won’t be able to leave here with you,” he said. “The Forest of which I am now a part will not allow it. I am a prisoner here for the time being.” She removed her hand from his and her mouth worked soundlessly.
“You’re going to have to be my surrogate out there, Caron,” he concluded.
“But, I... I don’t... I can’t...” Her hands rose as if in supplication. “I’ve never done anything magical. I won’t be able to do what needs to be done.”
Wil smiled. “You sound just like I did when I was told by the shade of Gleneagle that I had to face Greyleige alone. But when you think about it, in the end I didn’t have to face him alone. Scrubby was there for me, of course, but so were you and Kemp and Morgan and all the others. And when you leave here, you’ll be carrying a part of me with you.”
As he spoke, he extended his arm and an image shimmered into existence. Made of what looked like a type of white wood Caron did not recognize, it was formed in the shape of a key and was almost the length of her own arm.
“This will be your talisman, Caron,” Wil said. “As I had the talisman of the lock, you shall have a talisman of the key.”
Caron reached out hesitantly but Wil thrust the talisman forcefully into her hand. Its warmth radiated into her and she looked at it in astonishment. “It feels as if it’s alive,” she said.
“It is, indeed, alive,” Wil replied quietly.
Caron raised her eyes from the talisman to where Wil stood and gasped with horror when she realized his left arm had disappeared.
“I was the key before when I was able to travel outside the Old Forest,” he said. “I am still the key that you will wield to restore balance.” He winced slightly as he spoke and she realized that his face had turned the same pale color of the talisman in her hand.
“You are in pain,” she said as a matter of fact.
“It will pass,” he replied. “Even were it not to pass, I would bear it gladly.” She looked back and forth from the talisman to the void on the left side of Wil’s body where the arm had been and back to the talisman.
“You will have to return it to me when you are finished with it, Caron,” he said. “I really will need it back.”
She smiled thinly at the jest, then threw her arms around him. As she did, she gave a little cry and released her embrace, stepping quickly back to look at him once again. Where there was nothing visible that she could see, yet it felt as if there was something solid where the arm should be when she embraced him.
“It is invisible because it’s essence now exists in the talisman you hold in your hand,” he told her. “It will be an open means of communication between us. It will allow me to hear what you hear and see what you see with but a thought from you. But of the most importance, it will be a channel through which you can summon my power. Together, there is almost nothing we cannot do.”
“Wil, I...” she began.
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“You’re afraid?”
She nodded, her eyes shimmering with tears.
“Think back just a few years to when you and Kemp ran me to ground,” he said. “Remember that crazy girl who dared the deserted streets of Wrensfalls and Dunlivit in beggar’s clothes with a dagger clutched inside her shirt, and who beat her way across the country with nobody but Mitchal by her side?”
Caron smiled and nodded at the remembrance. “You’re right, Wil,” she said. “It hasn’t been all that long, has it?” She shook her head in bemusement. “But a lot has changed since then. That all happened before I had Roland.” She hesitated a moment before adding, “I didn’t have you then, either... or him.” She glanced down and placed her hand on her stomach.
Wil reached out with his right hand and softly stroked her cheek. “Are you really so different now? You came and dared the border of the Old Forest. You have faced the uncertainty of the truth about us and met it head on. You are the same person you were.”
Caron’s head rose as he spoke. “You’re right,” she said. “I’m being selfish because I’m so comfortable and safe here with you.”
“You’re going to have to go back in just a few days, you know. But there are things you will have to learn between now and then.” At the question in her eyes, he continued. “First, we’re going to train your own powers of seeing, for that is something I cannot do from in here and it is your greatest power. Second, we have to learn together how to make this arm you’ll be carrying around work the way we want it to. I really don’t want you to get so frustrated you end up throwing it at somebody.”
With that her tension broke and she laughed out loud. Fumbling around at his left side, she lifted the useless, invisible arm and placed her free arm around it, hugging it close to her. “The talisman is heavy enough that I couldn’t throw it very far, anyway,” she said as she laid her head onto his shoulder. “And, Wil, you have my promise that I’ll return it just as quickly as I possibly can.”