Wizard in the Woods

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Wizard in the Woods Page 13

by Jeffrey M. Poole


  Shamed, Mikal dropped his gaze to the floor.

  “I’m sorry. I will, I promise.”

  “Good. Do not worry about the Athanaus. It is for me to deal with, not you. Kahvel and I, that is. Your task now is to find and apprehend this young wizard before he causes any more trouble. Will you do that for me?”

  “I will. We’ll find him. That’s a promise.”

  “We?” his father repeated, raising an eyebrow. “I assume you are including young Lissa here?”

  A hot flush started at the base of Lissa’s neck and slowly crept upward.

  “Aye. Her, too.”

  “And your canine? What of her?”

  “Perhaps I could get mother to look after her for me?”

  Kri’Entu shook his head.

  “She’s your responsibility, son. It should be you who is looking after her, not your mother.”

  “Then she’ll come with us,” Mikal decided.

  “The two of you will be on the back of a dragon,” his father reminded him. “Do you really think it’d be safe for her up there?”

  Lissa brightened.

  “I have an idea. We can make sure she’ll be safe. It might take a little time to get it ready.”

  “Get what ready?” Mikal wanted to know.

  Father and son turned their attention to the young girl. Kri’Entu watched, bemused, as the receding flush on his son’s girlfriend reversed course and resumed its trek up her neck, over her face, and across her forehead.

  “I, er, should be able to have it ready sometime tomorrow.”

  “Then I leave it up to you. It is late. I suggest the two of you turn in. We all have a busy day tomorrow.”

  ****

  The following day found them once more up before sunrise. Mikal and Lissa had just finished their chedras in the Great Hall when she finally presented Mikal with her idea to keep Peanut safe. She held a lumpy piece of fabric out to him. Mikal took the gift and gave her a skeptical look.

  “Do you really think this is going to work?” Mikal asked as he eyed the ‘present’ Lissa had just given him. “It’s a sack. You want me to put Peanut into the bag? Seriously?”

  “She’ll be fine. Look, I’ve sewn two belts into each side of the sack here and here. You slide them over each shoulder. This small strap here is the sternum belt. It connects the two shoulder straps together so there’s no chance the sack will be able to slip off your shoulders.”

  Mikal slid his arms into the straps and adjusted each belt for a comfortable fit. Once he was sure of the fit he then buckled the sternum straps together.

  “You’ve turned this cinch sack into a backpack, is that it? Why not just get a backpack instead of going to all this trouble?”

  In response, Lissa spun Mikal around and loosened the cinch keeping the sack closed. She picked up Peanut and slid her into place on his back. Then she gently pulled the string to close the sack until only Peanut’s head was sticking through. Both of the corgi’s ears were sticking straight up as she watched what Lissa was doing.

  “Because a backpack doesn’t have an adjustable opening,” Lissa explained. “That’s why. How’s that feel?”

  Mikal took a few steps in each direction and nodded.

  “Not bad, actually. I can obviously tell she’s back there but I don’t… wizards be damned!!”

  Mikal had come to a sudden halt and had shuddered. Lissa was at his side in less than a second.

  “What? What is it?”

  Mikal reached behind his shoulder and gave the corgi a few pats on her head.

  “Peanut just licked the back of my neck. I now have goose bumps running up and down my arms.”

  Lissa giggled and scratched the friendly corgi behind her ears.

  “Good job, Peanut. You keep him in line, okay?”

  An hour later they were looking at the quiet valley once more. Streaks of burnt ember had appeared in the sky as the time neared for the sun to put in its appearance for the day. Mikal reached behind his back and gave Peanut a pat on the head. They had just returned to the scene of the fire. Captain Pheron, Lieutenant Darius, and Lieutenant Andreas, a man whom Mikal didn’t know that well, had accompanied them north. No one in their group, other than himself, was talking. The three soldiers were quietly eyeing one another as if to say they still couldn’t believe they had been chosen to become dragon riders. Lissa, once he had reminded her that she, too, was a dragon rider, had clammed up and hadn’t spoken more than a few words until she had presented him with the corgi carrier.

  Mikal eyed the scorched earth a final time before he looked up at the clouds. Didn’t Pravara say to meet her here at sunrise? Granted, he had been a few minutes late due to Commander Rhenyon’s last-minute meeting he had held with Lentari’s three newest dragon riders. Mikal knew he could always try to mentally contact her but decided to give their wyverian friend a few more minutes in case Kahvel was doing the same thing as Rhenyon.

  Mikal yawned. Truth be told, it was the earliest he had woken in as long as he could remember. The only way they had been able to make it back to the scene of the fire by sunrise was to be in the portal room at least a full hour before the sun would make its appearance.

  Mikal smiled as he remembered the activity level of the castle. Typically at that hour the only personnel who were out moving around were the guards that patrolled the corridors every fifteen minutes. When Mikal had arrived in the kitchen to claim some breakfast he was surprised to see that the kitchen was fully staffed and bustling with activity. Mikal had to admit he could see why. Even though the Dragon Lord wouldn’t be coming into the castle – there’s no way his head would fit through the gate –he was still a visiting dignitary and his arrival stipulated the castle would be in tip top shape, both inside and out. While every member of the housekeeping staff had been called into service to scrub every inch of the castle’s interior, it was the castle grounds which received the most attention.

  The orchard had been pruned and spruced during the night using nothing but torchlight to see. The castle’s moat was cleaned and topped off, much to the delight of Bredo, resident moat monster. Bright, cheery banners were erected on the top of every building that could be loosely considered a tower, which numbered well over four dozen. The drawbridge had been washed and the cobbled streets leading into the castle were swept clean by twenty volunteers. Shardwyn, secluded inside his tower north of the castle, was instructed to seal his front door and not come out until the dragons had left. There was no point in letting the dragons see that much clutter centralized in one area.

  Never had Mikal been so glad in his entire life to say that he had work to do. There was no doubt in his mind that, had he not been on an important assignment, his parents would have drafted him into service. He’d be overseeing the housekeeping team detailing the castle’s interior, knowing full well the Dragon Lord would never see it.

  Having tired of looking at the familiar black scorch mark, Mikal turned around to head back towards Lissa and the three soldiers. He was startled to see that he was looking straight into huge golden reptilian eyes. Pravara, true to her wyverian heritage, had snuck up on him and was lying down in the soft grass with her long supple neck stretched out straight ahead of her. Her head was also resting on the ground and she was staring, unblinking, straight at him.

  “Your species isn’t very observant,” Pravara casually remarked. “You took way too much time in turning around. I can only assume you didn’t notice my arrival?”

  Mikal pointed at his face.

  “Does this look like the face of someone who knew they were about to be ambushed? I’m surprised I didn’t faint. Why do dragons do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Sneak up on people like that.”

  “I can’t speak for other dragons,” Pravara idly answered, “but I find it highly amusing.”

  Pheron, who had been conversing with the other two soldiers, cautiously approached.

  “How do you move with such stealth?”

>   Pravara’s neck lifted. Her head swung around until she was facing the tall human officer.

  “When I don’t wish to be heard, then I’m not.”

  “I heard something similar when we first met your father,” Pheron told the dragon. “He was just as helpful as you were when he was asked how a creature his size was able to move about without making a sound.”

  “I told you they wouldn’t notice,” a new voice rumbled.

  Mikal’s head snapped up. He looked to his right. Another dragon was sitting, complacently, in the grass as though it had nothing better to do with its time. This dragon was a dark ruby red color, had purple flanged wings, and was considerably larger than Pravara. Pravara nodded at the newcomer.

  “Rhamalli.”

  Rhamalli nodded in return.

  “Pravara.”

  “I am pleased to see you here,” Pravara told the much larger dragon. “I know you have been pushing to lift the ban on riders for quite some time. Was it difficult to find two others who thought the same?”

  “Not at all, if you must know. There is a growing fascination for your mother and her rider. Other dragons want to try adopting a rider to see if they can recreate the success she has had.”

  The red dragon’s nostrils flared open and everyone present could hear him take a deep breath, as though he had caught scent of something that had piqued his interest. Mikal had to fight the urge to whirl around to see what was behind him. He looked over at Lissa, who was already checking the surrounding environment to see what might have caught Rhamalli’s attention. Mikal hesitated as a thought occurred to him.

  “Is he legitimately looking at something or is he trying to fool us?”

  Mikal felt Peanut grow tense and give a few warning woofs.

  “You might want to look,” Lissa quietly told him.

  Mikal took a breath and turned around. Not one but two more dragons were silently regarding them. The closest dragon was smaller than Rhamalli and Pravara both, was a solid brown color with streaks of white on its thick, muscular neck, and was watching them with a bemused expression. It lowered its head down and opened its mouth, revealing some of the longest fangs Mikal had ever seen on a dragon. How was it able to close its mouth when some of its fangs were as long as Mikal’s own arms?

  Standing behind the brown dragon was a fourth dragon. This one was lean and slender and closely resembled the two-headed zweigelan dragons in appearance, only with one head. It was a burnished yellow color with small green patches spotted all over it. Mikal had originally thought it was giving each of them an unsettling look but later learned that Malthryp, or Malth as he preferred to be called, was highly intelligent and had been meticulously studying each of them. Selendran, the brown dragon, also demonstrated a high level of intelligence but elected to keep quiet most of the time.

  Introductions were made, new friendships were created, and, Mikal realized with a start, a new era had been born. The dragon riders had come again and he was thrilled to be included in their ranks! He was sure his parents were having a field day, knowing that their only son was now allowed to ride a dragon. Not just any dragon, but the daughter of the Dragon Lord himself!

  Mikal watched the three soldiers hesitantly eye their wyverian counterparts. Instead of choosing which dragons each of them wanted to ride, they honored the dragons even further by allowing their new wyverian friends to select which humans they wanted as riders. Rhamalli chose Pheron, while Malth chose Darius, leaving Selendran with Andreas.

  Mikal helped Lissa climb up onto Pravara’s back As soon as she was settled, he glanced back at the three new riders and their dragons. Each dragon was giving pointers to their humans about what to do, what not to do, how to initiate mental contact, and so on. Ten minutes later all four dragons lifted from the ground and began their search.

  CONSIDER THIS A TRAINING EXCERCISE, a different voice said in Mikal’s head. IT WILL TAKE US SOME TIME TO GET TO KNOW YOU HUMANS, JUST AS I’M SURE IT WILL BE FOR YOU TO GET TO KNOW US.

  Who was that? Mikal mentally asked. I thought we couldn’t hear any other voices other than our own.

  That was Rhamalli, Pravara’s voice told him. You’re hearing his voice only because the Collective is presently active. My apologies. I shouldn’t have left the connection open. As soon as I...

  WHAT ARE WE LOOKING FOR, PRAVARA? Rhamalli’s voice interrupted.

  Mikal, a moment, please. Rhamalli, you’re looking for a young human.

  HOW YOUNG?

  Fifteen years of age. He’s a wizard. If he sees you he’ll more than likely do something to you, so you must be discrete. Observation only. Find him, but do not confront.

  DO NOT CONFRONT? A SINGLE HUMAN BOY IS NOT A THREAT.

  This one is, Pravara insisted. Exercise extreme caution. He has the power to possess bodies, shift minds from one body to the other, and physically shrink us. I’m also certain that list doesn’t end there. I personally don’t want to find out what else he can do. Trust me when I say that you don’t, either.

  THIS IS THE HUMAN RESPONSIBLE FOR CAUSING CATRIN AND JASMYRE TO CREATE THAT FIRE?

  Aye.

  VERY WELL. WE WILL OBSERVE ONLY. WE WILL BE IN TOUCH.

  Rhamalli’s powerful thought faded as Pravara closed out her mental connection to the wyverian Collective.

  “I do believe it is time to begin our search.”

  Mikal was confused.

  “Hasn’t that been what we’ve been doing so far?”

  “No. We’ve only been looking. Now we need to search.”

  “Why did you put the emphasis on ‘search’? I don’t understand.”

  “You will momentarily.”

  “What’s that supposed to – oh, wow!”

  Lissa leaned forward, sandwiching Peanut between the two of them, and rested her head on Mikal’s shoulder.

  “What is it? Is everything alright?”

  Mikal nodded, too overcome to speak.

  His entire body had been flooded with warmth, almost as if he had jumped into a natural hot spring. The howl of the passing winds had disappeared. He could hear everything, from the chirps of nearby kytes to grunts of the other dragons who, while out of visual range, he could still somehow hear.

  They were out of your normal visual range before, Pravara clarified, but not anymore. Behold. There’s Rhamalli, with his rider. Hmm. It looks as though Rhamalli’s rider isn’t enjoying himself.

  Mikal, sharing Pravara’s impressive visual abilities, had noticed that Captain Pheron’s face had paled and was threatening to turn green.

  It looks as though he doesn’t like flying.

  I would say he’s about ready to soil Rhamalli’s scales.

  Sure enough, as Rhamalli’s large body was buffeted by the various air currents found at their present altitude, Pheron whipped his gold accented, custom ordered, and very expensive barbute, off his head and thrust it under his mouth. Pravara, along with Mikal, looked away just as Pheron’s breakfast made another appearance.

  Poor Pheron. He’s always dreamt of riding a dragon and what does he end up doing? Getting sick on their first flight together. That must be embarrassing.

  I trust if you ever think you will soil my scales you’ll let me know so that we can descend to the ground?

  Mikal chuckled.

  You got it. The last thing I would want to do is puke all over you, too. Thankfully my stomach feels fine.

  A third voice appeared.

  I wish I could say the same thing.

  Lissa? Is that you? Pravara, did you bring Lissa into the loop?

  Aye. I thought it would be rude if we continue to converse without her.

  Are you sharing your senses with her like you did with me?

  No. A dragon will typically share their senses with one person and one person only.

  The rider, Mikal guessed.

  Correct.

  Lissa? What do you think about all this?

  I’m still getting used to it. Remind me to look for some zingibe
r root once we land. It will help battle my nausea.

  I have a question for you, Pravara.

  Go ahead, Mikal.

  Did you know your father would bring back the riders?

  Aye. He has broached the subject many times with my mother. My father is still impressed by the results of the Hunt from several years ago.

  What hunt?

  The Hunt is an annual competition amongst the wyverians to see who can capture an oskorlisk fang first, or else who might be lucky enough to ensnare a silver fang, found only in the jaws of a red oskorlisk.

  I’ve heard this story before. Isn’t that what Steve and your mother brought back after the Hunt? They had managed to not only find a red oskorlisk but also collected a fang, didn’t they?

  Aye. Many talented dragons were defeated by my mother and her rider. Rhamalli was one of them. He later confided to my father that he had already been considering making a formal request to be allowed to take on a rider. The results of the Hunt were all the validation he needed, so he volunteered. Many other dragons expressed interest, too.

  Which dragons? Lissa’s gentle thought spoke. Can you tell us?

  Of course. There was Canilian, Falgoth, Sorahono, and Kaleth, to name a few. All were eager to try it out. I just hope they’re not treating this as a passing fascination.

  I’ve been meaning to ask you something, Mikal thought to Pravara. How do we know who we’re looking for? We’ve never seen this boy.

  An image of a tousle-headed, acne infested boy suddenly flashed through his mind. Surprised, Mikal turned to Lissa to verify she had seen the image, too. Lissa nodded in response to his unasked question.

  Before you ask, I pulled the image from the mind of the boy’s mother.

  Isn’t that considered rude? Mikal demanded.

  Perhaps. She was thinking about her son for the entire duration you were in her house. The image was so strong that I am surprised you didn’t pick up on it.

  Did you already share that image with the Collective? Lissa asked. Is that why the other dragons haven’t asked what the person they’re searching for looks like?

  Aye.

  Dragons are amazing, Lissa decided.

  Thank you.

 

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