Spirit Blade: Book III of the Dragon Mage Trilogy (6 page)

Sherman rolled his eyes. “Not that again.”

The spell caster turned to Kazin. “And you’re the dragon mage.” She turned to the dwarf. “And the dwarf is ‘the frozen axe’. I saw how your axe shattered the zombies. And the minotaur,” she looked up at the towering beast, “is the ‘head of horns.” At last she regarded the skink warrior speculatively. “But you don’t fit somehow.”

“You said your father wrote about us,” interrupted Kazin. “Did he by any chance write the ‘Book of Prophesy’?”

The stranger nodded. “Yes. How did you know?”

“We met briefly,” said Kazin with a distant look in his eye. “Once.”

“Suppose you tell us your name,” prodded Harran. “My name is Harran Mapmaker.” He decided he liked the young spell caster.

The stranger held out her hand and smiled. “I’m Amelia.”

As they shook hands, Harran introduced the others by name. Although nervous about the skink warrior, she shook his hand quickly and then wiped it off on her robe. As Kazin shook her hand, he studied Amelia’s eyes and recognized something familiar about her but couldn’t place it. He asked her what she was doing on the dangerous swing bridge.

“I asked you first,” she said sweetly, her smile catching him off guard.

He decided to take her into his confidence even though Zylor glared at him for doing so. He gave a brief description of his quest and why they were on it, saying only that they hoped to undo what was causing the disappearances in the future.

Amelia’s smile faded as he talked. “I see why you need to do something about it,” she said when Kazin had finished. “I would try to do the same thing. As for myself, I was just going back to study some gaps in the histories that my father missed. Call it a bit of research, if you like. I know better than to interfere. I just observe from a distance. I’ve been time traveling for a number of years now.”

“How do you know you haven’t changed the course of history on one or more of your expeditions?” blurted Sherman. He looked at Kazin for support. “This could be the reason things are going wrong in your time!”

Kazin raised an eyebrow and regarded the spell caster. “That’s a legitimate question, Amelia.”

Amelia looked indignant. “I wouldn’t chance a serious catastrophe like that! I have a magical safeguard to prevent such an occurrence! If anything, it’s you who are the cause of the problem you now face!”

Kazin held up a hand to calm the spell caster. “Relax. I’m not trying to point a finger. If you say you’re safe guarded against altering the time line, I believe you. We just have to keep our minds open to any possibilities, that’s all.”

Amelia’s temper subsided. “Since you saved my life, and your quest is more important than my research, I’d like to repay you by helping you solve your problem.”

Zylor growled. “There will be many dangers to face. We have no time to look after you as well.”

Amelia glared at the minotaur. “I can take care of myself!”

“Like you did on the bridge?” leered the minotaur.

Amelia reddened. “I’d have gotten out of there eventually. You’ll need me on this quest.”

“What have you to offer?” asked Olag.

“I notice you don’t have your healer with you,” said Amelia. “I have the ability to heal using magic and herbs.”

“Are you a cleric?” asked Sherman, referring to the white mages who had that magical ability.

Amelia shook her head. “No, not exactly. I also have some offensive magic.”

“Like a grey mage?” asked Harran. Grey mages could do both offensive magic and defensive magic, but their magic was far weaker than either the black or white mages, who concentrated on only offensive or defensive magic respectively.

“Sort of,” said Amelia vaguely. “But my magic is stronger.”

Zylor sneered. “Likely story.”

“I also have the one thing you need to avoid altering history,” snapped the spell caster. “I have the orb of seeing.” She withdrew a milky white orb from the pocket of her robe, the item barely the size of her palm. “This orb can determine if any object, living or inanimate, will impact the future, and whether interaction with said objects will change the course of history. All I have to do is visualize the object or person within the orb and it will tell me if an action concerning it will cause an imbalance.” She looked at the companions defiantly. “And don’t try to steal it from me. It works for me and only me!”

“Where did you get such an artifact?” asked Sherman. “Did you find it on one of your expeditions?” He was still suspicious of her.

“Of course not!” spat Amelia. “That would certainly change history! My father made it in conjunction with my mother.”

“She was a spell caster too?” asked Harran.

“Yes,” said Amelia proudly. “She was the most powerful spell caster in the history of the mermaids!”

“She was a mermaid?!” exclaimed Olag, aghast.

Amelia reddened. She had inadvertently given away a secret she had hidden from everyone else until now. Only she and her father knew. “Yes,” she said meekly.

“That artifact, and your abilities, would certainly come in handy, Amelia,” said Harran, looking at Kazin for confirmation.

Kazin nodded slowly. “Harran’s right. I think our chance encounter was very fortuitous. I would be remiss not to have you along on this quest, Amelia.”

Zylor grunted but did not argue. “You’ll have to fend for yourself, mage.”

Amelia stood her ground. “As long as I don’t have to bail you out of trouble all the time.”

Zylor laughed. “You have spirit. I’ll give you that.”

“Come on,” said Kazin. “Let’s break camp a little way from here where there’s less exposure to the wind. We could all use a rest.”

“Agreed,” said Sherman.

“Follow me,” said Harran. “I can see a way down to an area with decent cover.” Dwarves were at home in the mountains. They were the most skilled at mountain navigation, both inside and out.

Within an hour they found a level area sheltered from the wind. It was a comfortable spot with plenty of dead brush available to make a fire. Not long after, a pot was boiling with fresh mountain water extracted from a nearby spring. Two rabbits were caught and killed in some nearby thickets thanks to Olag’s expert bowmanship. Amelia warned them that to kill too many rabbits in this location could also alter the future but assured them it was safe to shoot a few here according to her orb.

Amelia made herself useful in preparing the meal and spicing it up with some local herbs that none of the others would even have thought of using. Her herbal skills were impressive as they sipped their stew.

“This is incredible!” exclaimed Sherman. “I’ve never imagined anything could taste so delicious from ordinary vegetation growing right around us like this!”

“I agree,” said Harran. “The hill dwarves could learn a lesson from this.” Hill dwarves were the ones who lived outside the mountain, while the ordinary dwarves lived inside the mountains.

“It’s the least I can do for my rescuers,” beamed Amelia. “Thanks again for getting me out of that predicament earlier. Your timing was perfect.”

“Think nothing of it,” said Kazin. “We would have done the same for anyone in those circumstances.”

“Anyone?” asked Amelia, her eyes sharp.

“Yes,” nodded Kazin. “Even those we consider enemies. Because if we didn’t, they would have had their bodies taken over by spirits - who reside in the bodies of those zombies - and would do their best to rewrite history. They would use that individual’s body to go back and save themselves from dying an untimely death and live instead, changing the course of history in the process.”

“Good answer,” said Amelia. “You understand the real danger on the bridge. The bat things try to knock you off the bridge merely to add souls to their collection. You would then become a zombie like the thousands of others that have had an untimely death. The zombies, on the other hand, try to take a fresh body and use it to go back in time to change the past so they don’t die the untimely death in the first place. The bat things don’t really care if the zombies succeed, because if the zombies save themselves, they can cause countless others to die untimely deaths because of history being rewritten. This gives the bat things even more spirits to control. The more malevolent the spirit, the more tenacious the zombie, the more deaths that spirit can cause if it prevents its own premature death and goes on killing in the real world.”

“How does the zombie take over the new body?” asked Olag.

“Once it gets hold of the new body, the spirit residing within the zombie’s body slips into the new host and drives out the living spirit within,” answered Amelia. “Usually there is a battle for the host body, but the attacking spirit is powerful due to desperation, and the original spirit is unprepared for such an attack. It gets ejected and fed to the bat things, who give it a zombie body to inhabit for eternity, because it has received an untimely death.”

Sherman shuddered. “That’s not a fate I would want to endure.”

“Me neither,” said Harran.

“That’s the price you could pay for wanting to go back in time,” said Amelia. “You take a great chance if you want to alter things in the past.”

After they had eaten, Kazin suggested they rest for a while as he needed to regain his strength before carrying on. He explained that traveling in the late evening was best since they would be less noticeable as he flew around in dragon form.

Amelia agreed, pointing out that if they were in the right time in history, dragons were known to be seen frequently and many villages had sentries watch for them in order to alert their archers and mages to spring to the defense of the city should one be spotted. Once near a city, they would be wise to land before being spotted, and then walk the rest of the way like ordinary travelers so as not to attract more attention.

Kazin agreed and found a comfortable spot to lie down. In minutes he was asleep.

Harran agreed to take the first watch and made his way a short distance back up the mountain so as to have a better vantage point. He chose a location where he could oversee the camp and any access points should an intruder come along.

Amelia volunteered to clear up the dishes and then climbed up to join the dwarf. She found him to be more amicable than the others and wanted to get to know him better. She sat down beside him on a moss-covered log and sat silently for a while. Then she broke the stillness - the wind had died down somewhat - and asked him about his name. “Harran, is your last name - Mapmaker - related to your career?”

Harran turned to regard the young spell caster. “It was. Several generations before me also had that name. We were gifted with an exceptional ability to make maps of the underground passages in the mountains. Our skill with map making was highly sought after by high-ranking dwarves. I was the king’s personal mapmaker - a distinct honour among my people.”

“You said ‘was’,” said Amelia. “Don’t you make maps anymore?”

Harran chuckled. This girl was young but astute. “I do, but only as a hobby. I am the leader of my people now.”

“What do they call you now?” asked Amelia.

“King Dracon.”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s short for ‘dragon conch.’ It’s an artifact I acquired that, when blown, calls all dwarves within earshot to arms. It is powerful enough to break any spell any dwarf is under and rallies them to my side.”

“So your name changes with your job,” concluded Amelia.

Harran nodded. “My earlier ancestors were known as Tunnelmaker before we switched specialties and became Mapmakers.”

“Do you have mapmakers that work for you now?” asked Amelia.

“Yes,” said Harran. “One of my chief mapmakers is called Rebecca Mapmaker. She happens to have an uncanny ability to find gem deposits.”

“That’s interesting,” mused Amelia. She lapsed into silence to digest this information.

They shared other stories for a few hours before Harran tensed and pointed into the distance. “Is that what I think it is?” he asked suddenly.

Amelia looked where he pointed and squinted. “Yes,” she said finally. “That appears to be a dragon.”

A moment later, the beast dove to an unknown destination and disappeared from view behind some trees. A few moments later it reappeared and flew around in a tight arc and descended again. Then it reappeared and repeated its tactic. After it rose from the treetops the next time, smoke could be seen rising after it. The dragon did not give up. It dove two more times before departing the scene. It appeared to have a large object in its mouth as it flew away. By now the black billows were rising from the forest floor.

“We should alert the others,” said Harran, rising.

“One moment,” interrupted Amelia. She took out her orb and concentrated. The milky surface swirled but Harran could not make any sense of the patterns and designs it emitted.

After a full minute of watching the orb, Amelia looked up at the dwarf and shook her head. “We won’t be able to do anything about what just happened without altering things. It’s best to let it be.”

“I’ll let Kazin decide that,” growled the dwarf. He tromped down the mountainside.

Amelia got up and followed. She was surprised at the trust the dwarf had in the old mage. She concluded they must have been through a lot of adventures together.

The camp was aroused and Harran relayed what he had seen. Kazin looked across the forest below and could see what he was talking about. The black smoke was rising and blowing to the southeast. He listened with interest as Amelia told him what her orb had relayed to her. Then he nodded in satisfaction. “Amelia’s right. We can’t run to the aid of everyone who is in trouble like we are used to doing. It is not up to us to interfere, even though it feels wrong. That’s going to be the hardest part of this quest. We are not supposed to be here, so we shouldn’t intervene.”

Sherman was about to object but Kazin raised his hand. “We can, however, investigate what happened and learn from it. We might even be able to offer minor assistance as long as it doesn’t change history.” He looked questioningly at Amelia, who nodded.

“I can determine in advance if that’s acceptable. The orb has allowed me to do minor things before without incident.”