Ryan nodded eagerly. “I will.”
But Aaron rolled his eyes. He was unable to imagine anything so boring as looking at some old books.
Perhaps Throll recognized what he was thinking, for he snapped his fingers and pointed at Aaron and Ohaobbok. “You two, eat up. We’re going to accelerate your training immediately after breakfast, and I promise you, you’re going to need all the strength you can get.”
Aaron grinned. And why shouldn’t he? He was going to be the general of a great army.
Ryan sat at a table in Throll’s office, poring over a book called The Theory of Wizardry. He’d expected an intensely philosophical or mystical read, but instead this text read much more like a mathematics book. Still, he found he could make sense of it, and the more he read, the more he realized the theories agreed with the basic premises he’d established with his father during their many experiments.
A key premise of the book was this particular equation:
Power of Magic = Rate of Magic / Resistance of Medium
Essentially, the power associated with a wizard’s strike was a function of how quickly the energy was pushed and how much resistance there was in the medium between the wizard and his target. Air, for instance, presented little, while rock presented a lot. He remembered the difficulty he’d had when he’d first tried to affect something that was submerged in water.
According to the book, although the capacity for magic was rare in Trimoria, for those lucky few who did possess it, the ability to transfer energy in the form of lightning or heat was most common, and the powers of healing were second most common. So his and his mother’s abilities were—or had been, at the time of this writing—among the more “traditional” types of magic. And yet even then, the book said that most of those who could transfer energy could only do things like light a fireplace or give someone a minor burn. To do what Ryan could do was extremely rare. Those who possessed such power were known as “war wizards.”
Ryan liked the sound of that.
It was curious, however, that the book had no mention of unusual strength like Aaron’s. Nor did it reference the ability to transfer energy into objects. It did say that magic powers evolved and strengthened as a person grew. This was disappointing in that Ryan couldn’t realize his full potential until he was older, but it was also exciting to know that he would grow more powerful.
The chapter that most caught Ryan’s interest was one that talked about creating what it called a “shock web.” Instead of sending a single stroke of energy at a target, a shock web involved hundreds of tiny filaments of energy that could immobilize someone instead of burning them. Remembering what had happened to Sling, Ryan thought a less… damaging way of fighting off an attacker was something he needed in his bag of tricks.
Following the ideas set out in the chapter, he tried to send a cloud instead of a stream of energy from his fingertips. To his surprise, he succeeded on the very first attempt. As he looked on in amazement at the cloud of crackling energy hovering between his hands, he thought, Who would have imagined it would be this easy?
He’d gotten lost in the book once more when he was startled by the creak of a floorboard in the hallway. He was surprised to hear it, as the only other room at this end of the hall was Throll and Gwen’s bedroom, and both of them always avoided that particular spot. The only time Ryan had ever heard it was when he stepped there himself.
Something was amiss. He sensed it. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up in alarm.
He poked his head out of the office. The bedroom door was open. Quietly, he crept forward and peered inside.
Gwen was napping in her bed. Beside the bed was the bassinet, where Zenethor slept as well.
And standing over the bassinet was a man dressed in black.
With a startling fury, Ryan instantly recalled the lesson from the book and unleashed a tremendous cloud of energy at the intruder. A web of sparking filaments wrapped itself tightly around the man, dropping him to the floor.
Gwen bolted upright, saw what was happening, and screamed. The baby awoke and added his own cries.
Ryan pulled the web tight, squeezing the breath from the man’s lungs. “Get Throll and the rest!” he said through gritted teeth. “Now, Gwen!”
Grabbing her baby, Gwen fled the room. She returned in moments with Throll, Ohaobbok, and Aaron, all with swords drawn.
Throll reached out to take the man by his arm, but flinched when his hand touched Ryan’s energy web. “Let him go, boy,” he said gruffly. “I want to hear what he has to say for himself.”
Ryan was feeling the strain of maintaining the shock web and was glad to release it. He practically collapsed to the floor as exhaustion washed over him.
“First question,” Throll grunted, standing over the intruder. “Why are you in my bedroom? Second question. Who sent you? Answer now!”
The man rolled onto his back, his jaw working tightly behind his pursed lips as if he was chewing something. And then his eyes rolled back in his head and he began foaming at the mouth. In seconds his body convulsed, his back arched, and then he collapsed and fell still.
“Is he dead?” Aaron asked.
Ryan felt a knot develop in his gut. “Did I kill him?”
Throll examined the body. “Yes, he’s dead. But no, Ryan, you didn’t kill him. It appears this man wanted to keep his secrets so badly that he was willing to bite a poison capsule. He must’ve been hiding it in his mouth.”
A soft sob came from the doorway. Ryan turned to see that Gwen had returned.
“What kind of man would do such a thing?” she asked.
In answer, Throll pulled a necklace from beneath the man’s breastplate and held it up for all to see. Impressed upon it was the insignia of the wizard Azazel.
“I believe he’s an assassin,” Throll said. “I cannot be certain, but…” He paused, and tears formed in his eyes. “It seems reasonable to assume that men like this one have been responsible for the misfortune that has befallen my family for generations. Had you not arrived when you did, Ryan…”
Throll shook his head and resumed his search of the dead man. In addition to the necklace, he found a black dagger made of obsidian and a capsule of liquid.
Throll held up the capsule. “If I’m right, this is another poison, one likely meant for my son. One that would cause a silent death that would look natural.”
“And the dagger?” Dad asked. He and Mom had just arrived, and Mom’s eyes were red and brimming with tears. Someone must have called them on the rings. Ryan had been so focused on subduing the assassin that he hadn’t felt the code buzzing across his finger.
“The dagger was meant for anyone who might’ve chanced upon the assassin while he was attending to his mission.” He glanced at his wife, then looked up at Ryan. The tears finally escaped his eyes and ran down his cheeks. When he spoke, the giant man’s voice cracked. “Ryan… I don’t know how to thank you.”
Ryan found it difficult to look Throll in the eye. It broke his heart to see him this way.
And he knew, in his heart, that where there was one assassin, there would be more. All he’d done was forestall the inevitable.
This was only the beginning of their danger.
Preparing for a Fight
Jared pulled the giant sword from the water barrel. It had survived the quenching process and glimmered in the sunlight shining through the windows above. The blade was so large that Jared could scarcely hold it, but it would be perfect for Ohaobbok.
He hauled the sword over to the table beside the grinding wheel, sat down, and pedaled the wheel to its proper speed. He held the blade against the wheel, and the sparks flew. When it had gained a razor’s edge, he wrapped the sword in two smithy aprons to avoid inadvertently cutting himself.
Ohaobbok was going to love it. But the sword was only the first step. Next up: armor. Not only for Ohaobbok, but for his sons. The assassin’s attack had made everything imminent, urgent. The vision had been a warning, but it
had referenced a time years in the future. Now…
Now the wolves were at their door.
Ryan was studying his book of magic when Dad called up to him. He headed downstairs and found that Dad had come in the back door—with the largest sword Ryan had ever seen.
“Wow. That thing is huge.”
Dad beamed, clearly proud of his work. “Before I show it to Ohaobbok, do you think you could infuse it with energy?”
“Easy.”
Ryan concentrated on the sword, pushing waves of energy into its blade. At first he felt the layers of the sword resist, but then all at once it gave way. He kept pressing energy forward until the metal could hold no more, then stepped back.
The sword now gave off a blue-and-white glow.
Dad rewrapped it in its casing, and then he and Ryan went to the front yard, where Aaron and Ohaobbok were practicing their sword forms under Throll’s instruction.
“Let me see your scooping, slashing, snapping, and piercing motions,” Throll shouted. “Now!”
Aaron and Ohaobbok flawlessly executed the four forms before returning to their ready stance. Ryan was impressed. They had both gotten really good.
“Now let me see scraping, snapping, and whipping, finished with chopping. Now!”
Again Aaron and Ohaobbok began the motions, but this time, Throll surprised Aaron by attacking him right in the middle of his progression. Aaron nimbly blocked the strike and counterattacked with one of his own. The ranger reeled, and Aaron and Ohaobbok returned to their ready stance.
Throll stood up straight and smiled. “That seems as good a time as any to break.” He nodded to Ryan and Dad. “It looks like these two have something for us. For Ohaobbok, judging by the size of it.”
Dad walked forward with the bundle and presented it to the ogre. With a grin, Ohaobbok unwrapped it. And then his grin was replaced with a look of reverence and awe.
“It’s beautiful.” The ogre picked up the blade and waved it around, testing it for heft and balance. “It’s… it’s perfect.”
“Wow, Dad!” said Aaron, his eyes wide. “Just look at that thing. That has to be your best work yet!” He walked over to Ohaobbok, who handed him the blade. “This is really something. Hey, can you give my sword that shimmering effect?”
Dad laughed. “That’s not for looks, it’s for durability and strength. And your brother’s in charge of the ‘shimmering.’”
Aaron knelt on one knee and held out his sword dramatically with both hands. “My Brother… forsoothe, could you please make my sword sparkly?”
Ryan rolled his eyes. “If you’ll go get me some cheese. I need to recharge my battery.”
“One sparkle-fueling cheese, coming right up.” Aaron ran inside.
Throll was eyeing the ogre’s sword with a frown. “Jared,” he said, “I understand that Ryan is imbuing these weapons with greater strength, but I cannot help but fear the ‘sparkle,’ as young Aaron calls it, will attract unwanted attention.”
Dad shrugged. “I understand your concern, and that’s why I haven’t done this sooner. But after the attempt on your son, I think we have to assume that our adversary has already identified us. There’s no sense in trying to remain anonymous any longer. We should focus all our attention on protecting ourselves in any way we can.”
Throll nodded. “Your logic is sound. And in that case, my own sword could use a shine.” He unsheathed his sword and held it out to Ryan. “Must I fetch you a block of sparkle-inducing cheese, young wizard?”
Ryan laughed as he accepted Throll’s sword. “Let’s let my little brother handle that.”
Soon Aaron returned with a basket containing several large wheels of cheese.
“That’s a lot of cheese,” Ryan said.
“While I was in there, I figured you’d be doing Throll’s sword first. Looks like I was right.”
Ryan filled his belly, then sat down and laid Throll’s sword in his lap. As always, he could sense the layers of folded metal within the blade as he poured out his energy. When the blade thrummed with heat and light, he released his push and handed the blade back to Throll.
The ranger danced away, swinging his new sword back and forth with expert precision. “It has the same weight and balance, but the forms seem easier to perform.” He shook his head. “It’s as it cuts through the air more efficiently than before.”
“Why don’t you try it out on that log?” Dad suggested.
Throll looked to the log that Dad had indicated, then stood it upright. With a growl, he sent a tremendous slash through the log.
Ryan was awed. The log hadn’t even moved. Such was the blade’s sharpness that it had passed through the wood as if through air.
“You missed!” Aaron said, laughing uproariously.
“Did I?” Throll said. He stepped forward and gave the log a light shove with his foot. The top fell away from the bottom, revealing the precision of the ranger’s slash.
Aaron stopped laughing. “Whoa.”
Throll examined his blade, nodded in satisfaction, then returned it to its sheath. Then, to Ryan’s great surprise, he stepped forward, dropped to a knee before him, and planted a kiss on both of his cheeks.
“Thank you, my boy,” he said. “You have dismissed any doubts I had about carrying such a sword. I can imagine wielding no other.”
Pride swelled in Ryan as he nodded in reply.
While Ryan went about charging every weapon in the house, Dad measured everyone for armor.
“How many parts of me do you need to measure?” Aaron grumbled as his dad wrapped the tape around his neck.
It was Throll who answered. “Trust me, if your armor doesn’t have a proper fitting, you’ll regret it.”
“Just wait until you get to me,” Ohaobbok said with a chuckle. “I don’t even want to know how much ore you’ll have to use on my armor.”
“I’m not concerned about the ore,” Jared said as he finished measuring Aaron. “I’m concerned that you’re not done growing. If you grow to twelve feet, as Throll expects, you’re going to keep me busy.”
“Shall I assume we’ll be imbuing our new armor with Ryan’s energy?” Throll asked.
Dad nodded. “Definitely. According to our experiments, metal imbued with energy becomes nearly indestructible. Though every impact the metal receives seems to diminish the charge slightly.”
“How long will a charge last?” Throll asked.
In response, Dad produced the hammer that had accidentally accepted Ryan’s charge on the first day he learned of his power. It still glowed with a strange white hue. “I’ve been pondering that same question. I’ve been using this hammer at the smithy since the day it was first charged—which is to say, a lot. And yet even after all that pounding, I’m guessing its power has diminished by maybe a quarter, at most.”
“So what does that mean for armor?” Throll asked.
Dad got a sparkle in his eye. “Perhaps we need to do some experiments. But in the meantime, we can always recharge the armor as needed. After every battle, should it come to that. But we’re getting ahead of ourselves. First, I’ve got some forging to do.”
When Ryan exited the house the following morning, Throll was standing in the road, waving to a horse-drawn cart coming down the road. His father was driving the cart, and judging by the smile on his face, the armor-building process had been a success. He must have been at it all night.
Dad came to a stop and stepped down from the cart. “Ryan, could you run and get Ohaobbok? I need to make sure the armor fits before you start the charging process.”
The next two hours were spent on armor fitting and adjusting. Only when Dad was fully satisfied that everything was precisely as it should be was Ryan finally allowed to begin charging. This took even longer. Each person’s armor consisted of several pieces, and some of them were large. Ryan had no idea how much food he consumed, but he knew it was a lot.
He was working on the last set of armor—Aaron’s—when Sloane came out of the house
with a tray of drinks. Silver followed behind her, now outfitted with some kind of harness with a pocket draping over either side, like saddlebags. In each pocket, Sloane had stuffed a large wheel of cheese.
The cat didn’t look happy about being used in this way.
“He looks like a furry mule,” Dad said with a chuckle.
Sloane smiled. “I don’t think this cat likes the sounds of sparking and pounding out here, because he’s been following me everywhere I go. So I figured as long as he was going to be underfoot all the time, he might as well make himself useful.”
As she set down the tray and began carving the cheese, Throll and Ohaobbok donned their full armor and snuck up behind her. She jumped, startled, and Ryan couldn’t blame her. With their helmets drawn over their eyes, they certainly were an intimidating sight.
“You scared me!” Sloane cried, and everyone laughed. “But you look amazing! I can’t imagine anyone seeing the two of you on the field of battle and not turning tail.” She gave her father a big hug around his armor. “Whoa. The metal is humming. Doesn’t that drive you crazy?”
Throll removed his helmet. “I don’t hear anything. Do you, Ohaobbok?”
Ohaobbok removed his own helmet. “Not at all.”
“You did an amazing job, Jared,” Throll said. “I’ve only worn full plate armor once before, as a much younger soldier, and that old armor didn’t fit nearly as well as this. The weight is spread in such a way that makes it far easier to bear. You should truly be proud of your work.”
Dad shrugged humbly. “To tell you the truth, I’m surprised at how well it turned out. This is my first time making armor.” He stepped back to admire his work. “Sloane’s right, though: you do look intimidating. Especially with that bluish-white glow Ryan gave you.”
“That was easy compared to what you did, Dad,” Ryan said. He caught his dad in a yawn, and added, “I think you need more than a block of cheese. You need some sleep.”
Heirs of Prophecy Page 17