Protector Of The Grove (Book 2) (24 page)

Fist sensed Justan’s dread and tried to help. “It’s ok, Mistress Sherl. They have a plan to deal with it. The elf knows a way to make sure that none of them is the nightbeast.”

Darlan glared at the ogre. “You knew this was happening and you told me nothing about it? I expect Justan to hide things from me, but you’re my apprentice!”

Justan felt pressure on his shoulder and turned his head to find Squirrel perched there, busily munching a seed he held in his right hand while watching the ogre get chewed out. Without looking at Justan he thrust his left hand out to him, proffering him a seed as well.

“No thank you, Squirrel,” he said.

“Do you think it’s acceptable for an apprentice to withhold important information like this from his mistress?” Darlan asked.

Fist hesitated as he hadn’t expected to have her anger turned on him. “But I just learned about that part on the way here. I haven’t been able to get through to him for days.”

She focused her fiery glare on Justan. At any moment he expected to see actual flames dancing before her eyes. The situation was going the worst possible way for him. Next, he imagined she would make him take her along with him to Malaroo. A named warrior bringing his mother along to protect him. Well, he wasn’t going to stand for it.

“Mother, calm down! Yes, someone sent a nightbeast after me,” he said. “And yes, I didn’t want you to worry, but we’re handling it. We’ve killed ten basilisks already, and my companions did most of it without my help. I have Hilt with me. He’s killed a nightbeast before and I have Yntri Yni, probably the most experienced basilisk killer in the known lands. I’ll be fine.”

She stared at him for a moment, her jaw open, one eye twitching. Squirrel chose that moment to leap back to Fist’s shoulder, unwilling to be that close to the subject of Darlan’s ire. “What did you think I was going to do? Demand you let me come along? Like I have time for that! I’m way too busy over here with the council and with teaching Fist how to do magic. Don’t you think that after all these years married to Faldon the Fierce I’d have learned how to handle it when someone I love goes into danger?”

That was not the reaction Justan had expected. “Well, yeah. But that’s father.”

“Son, you’re not a child anymore. You’re a grown man and a named warrior for hell’s sake. You can take care of yourself. What I won’t put up with is being left in the dark. Faldon and I always had an agreement. I didn’t moan about his missions and he told me every single detail.”

She wagged a finger at him. “Now I don’t expect to hear every single detail from you, but I want regular updates. And one more thing,” she pointed at his chest and this time her eyes really did blaze. “Never tell my apprentice to keep things from me. It won’t work. You know he’s a terrible liar. You’re just going to get him in trouble. Do you think that’s fair to him?”

“No, ma’am,” Justan said. “I promise I’ll catch you up on all that has happened.”

“Then we have an understanding.” She walked over to Hilt and put a hand on his shoulder. “That being said, if anything happens to my son or future daughter-in-law, I’m coming down to Malaroo to roast the lot of you alive.”

“Understood,” said Hilt. “By the way, did you get Beth’s letter about the baby?”

“Oh, yes,” she said with a genuine smile. “I’m so happy for you, and how sweet of you to name her after me. I was very touched.”

Qurl walked up behind Justan and said softly. “If that is your mother, you might not have as much of a problem with father as I thought.”

Strangely, though he felt horribly embarrassed about being dressed down in front of everyone by his mother, Qurl’s words brought him some comfort. Maybe he was right. Hopefully Xedrion’s anger was just the righteous anger of a parent. Somehow that seemed easier to handle than the anger of a madman willing to hire nightbeasts.

“Um, Sir Edge,” said Aldie, approaching him. Two mages walked by the young man’s side, watching him as if afraid he was going to fall over.

“Aldie, you’re standing,” Justan said with a smile. “I guess that means they’re finished with you?”

“I’m healed up if that’s what you mean,” he said. “But they want me to rest a few days before we travel. The healing took a lot out of me and evidently I’m still low on blood.”

“That’s okay,” Justan replied, giving the student a reassuring smile. “I think we’ll all need to rest for a few days after what just happened.”

“I will not step my foot into that perverse place,” complained Jhexin, looking just as worn and drawn as Aldie. He had shoved one wizard aside and was leaning against Stanza for support.

“It’s not perverse!” Fist said. Perverse had been one of his daily words a few weeks back and he did not like the connotation. “It’s an amazing place. There is so much to do and learn.”

“It’s full of wizards and foul abominations,” Jhexin replied and the way he stared at the ogre, it was evident that he lumped Fist in with the latter group.

“You’ll go,” snapped Hilt, looking back from his conversation with Darlan. “Don’t worry. You’ll bunk with the academy trainees. You won’t have to spend any more time with the people that just saved your life.” He turned back. “Stupid fool.”

“Anyway,” said Aldie. He held Peace out to Justan. “I just wanted to return your sword. It was extremely helpful, but I’d like to have my emotions back now.”

“Oh! Right,” Justan said. He took the sword from Aldie’s hands, and felt its intrusive calm overtake him until he sheathed it. “I know what you mean.”

The young man looked relieved, but he stumbled as the feeling of exhaustion swept over him. The mages caught him and pulled him towards an enormous wagon.

Now that Justan had the chance to look at it more closely, he saw that it was unlike any other wagon he’d ever seen. Each piece of wood had been branded with reinforcing runes and it sat so high off the ground, that the hubs of its large wooden spoked wheels were at Justan’s shoulder. A small ladder hung off the side of the bed so that people could climb aboard. Perhaps the strangest part was that there were no horses attached to pull it. Two driver’s seats sat up top. In front of one was a pedestal with a metal orb at the top and in front of the other side was a large wheel that looked like it belonged at the helm of a ship.

“Hey, Sir Edge!” said the loud voice of Charz. The rock giant waved to him from the front of the contraption. “Come here.”

Justan walked up to him, still eying the wagon. “Hey, Charz.”

“Where’s Deathclaw at? I wanted to talk to him,” said the giant. Charz was ten feet tall and bulky, his musculature covered in rock-like skin. He wore an iron chain around his neck with a large crystal pendant.

“Greetings, Edge,” said Alfred. The gnome warrior and bonding wizard sat atop the contraption at about the height of the giant’s head.

“Hello, Alfred,” Justan said before answering Charz’s question. “Deathclaw was out on a mission when I left. I sent Gwyrtha to pick him up, but I’m not sure how long it will take them to get back.”

“You haven’t been keeping in contact with them?” Alfred asked.

“It’s a long story,” Justan replied. “Can you please tell me what this thing is? How does it move?”

“Isn’t it great?” said Fist excitedly before either of the other two could respond. Squirrel chose that moment to jump from Fist’s shoulder to Charz’s and then up to the driver’s seat. He sat there proudly as if he was in charge of the thing. “It’s something Professor Beehn and Professor Locksher made together.”

“It’s propelled by air magic,” said Alfred.

“When it’s working,” Charz complained. “If not, they expect me to push the thing around.”

“They based its working on some of the old siege engines we pulled out of storage during the war,” Alfred replied. He gestured to the pedestal, Squirrel mimicking him as he moved. “One wizard sits up here and pours air magic into the orb that is then fed to the back where the air is pushed out, moving it along. Another wizard sits at the wheel and-. Squirrel, will you stop that?” The gnome shooed Squirrel off of the drivers’ seat and the animal jumped to the top of the pedestal and scolded him, shaking one threatening fist.

“Squirrel’s been doing that a lot lately,” Fist said, shaking his head. “He likes to mimic people. I tell him to stop, but the other students laugh when he does it and that just encourages him.”

“It’s disrespectful,” Alfred said, perturbed.

“I’ll talk to him again, Alfred, but he won’t listen,” Fist said and Squirrel chattered along with him, doing an oddly good job of capturing the ogre’s tone and inflection. “See, there he goes again. He uses the bond to know exactly what I’m going to say,” Fist added, Squirrel mimicking him right along.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it,” said Professor Beehn, walking up to them. “It started out as a design for a new wheelchair for me and it turned into this.”

“They disagree on what to call it,” said Alfred. “Locksher says it should be called the ‘Air-Motivated Transportation Device’, while Beehn calls it-.”

“The Wind Wagon,” finished Beehn proudly. “Sounds much better, don’t you think?”

Justan nodded in agreement. The average person would be more likely to understand that one. “So why did you make it so big?”

“We have a smaller one back at the school,” said Beehn. “This beauty was designed to carry a large group of people at a time. You see, my plan is to have two of these built that make regular trips from the Mage School to Sampo and back every day, transporting people and supplies, that sort of thing. If it works well, we could expand and have wind wagons that go from Sampo to the Academy or to Dremald. The possibilities are limitless, really. There are just a few problems to be sorted out before we’re ready for that stage.”

“A few?” said Alfred with a chuckle, and Squirrel mocked him, grabbing its chest and miming a laugh. “First, it takes a very powerful air wizard to run it.”

“We’re working on other elemental means to propel them,” Beehn protested.

“Second, the winds it generates are destructive. It tears up the trees on the sides of the road,” the gnome added.

“As long as no one stands behind it, the Wind Wagon is perfectly safe,” Beehn replied, folding his arms.

Charz snorted. “Then there’s the fact that it’s a pain in the arse to turn around. That’s why they brought me along, by the way.”

“It steers quite fine, thank you,” said Beehn indignantly. “It just has a very long wheel base.”

“Why would anyone use such a monstrous thing when they have their own feet,” asked Qurl.

“Or a horse, for that matter,” Poz added.

“Ah,” said Beehn, holding up a finger. “But the Wind Wagon moves much faster than a horse, as you will soon see.”

“It’s scary,” said Fist. “Like Gwyrtha at a gallop, but it rattles your teeth out because the roads are so bad.” Beehn gave him a look of consternation and he added, “But it’s fun, though.”

Beehn gave him a curt nod. “Well, you doubters will see soon enough. Now if you will excuse me, I have some preparations to see to.”

The wizard walked around to the back of the long wagon and Justan asked the gnome, “So, is it good being bonded to a wizard again? Do you feel like your intelligence has been restored?”

Alfred smiled, shaking his head slightly. “I feel much better but it isn’t exactly the same. He’s much different than Latva or Oslo before him.”

“He definitely ain’t as emotional as Oslo,” said Charz. “He’s a lot more orderly, though. Has to have everything in its proper place. It makes me want to make a mess all the time.”

“You would probably do that anyway,” said Alfred. “And Beehn is far more of an innovator than Latva was. He’s always trying to think up new ways to tackle problems.”

“Yeah, but he ain’t as clever as Latva,” Charz added.

“True,” said the gnome with a sad smile. “Latva was a wily old fox.”

“Alright!” shouted Beehn from the rear of the wagon. “I’m ready for you, Charz!”

The rock giant sighed and turned to grasp the front of the huge wagon. He grunted and, with muscles straining, lifted the front end off the ground and began the laborious process of turning the wagon back towards the school. The length of the bed made things all the more difficult because the road wasn’t as wide as the wagon was long. The giant had to back the rear of it into the trees so that he could carry the front end around.

While Justan and the others got out of the way, Sir Hilt took Fist aside. He had a tan leather bundle in his hand. “When I told Beth I was coming this way she made me promise to bring this to you. It’s a gift.”

“A gift for me? How nice . . . of her,” Fist said in an attempt to be diplomatic. The ogre never had been sure what to think of the witch. Beth was sweet to him and well meaning enough. It was just that her fixation with him bordered on creepy.

Hilt laughed at his response. “Now come on, Fist. Don’t worry. She just loves you for your soul.” Fist’s broad forehead wrinkled in confusion and Hilt slapped his arm. “It’s a compliment. It just means she thinks you’re a good person. Here. She made this for you. Or you and Squirrel to be more specific.” He placed the bundle in the ogre’s arms.

“Me and Squirrel?” Fist said cautiously and Squirrel bolted down from the top of the wagon. It ran down Charz’s back and up to Fist’s shoulder to get a closer look. The ogre unrolled the bundle and smiled. “It’s a new pouch for Squirrel!”