The Last Wizard of Eneri Clare (64 page)

“Ye gods!” he finally uttered in a hoarse whisper, “Remind me, young mage, never to spar with you again. There is something in you of your master. I never could best him in an argument. Somehow, no matter how clever I thought myself, he always had me come away the fool.”

Tvrdik smiled, “You are no fool, sir, but a man of courage to put this tool to the test. I pray that one day, if what you say is true, I may count you as close and cherished a friend as my master always did, and still does.”

Jorelial Rey intervened, “My lord Maygrew, are you well?”

Maygrew made an odd sound like an attempt at laughter, through his tears. “I’m sure I will be. Give me a moment.”

“But what you saw,” she persisted, “was it…was it…
so
horrible?”

“Heavens, no! It was …so very
beautiful
, that I could no longer bear to see it.”

“Say again?”

“What I saw was, I think, some version of myself, only perfected, shining, shed of cowardice and petty grudges. No more fear or self-doubt, no meanness of spirit. The vision beckoned to me, and somehow, I was ashamed, deeply ashamed, knowing that this paragon was who I was destined to be if I could but strive a little harder, reach a little further. The experience was so profound, so many emotions and longings, I never wanted it to end, and yet I could not bear it.”

Praeger, standing by, could not help exclaiming, “But, milord, it were naught but a few seconds.”

Tvrdik smiled, “…and, during those seconds, my lord, could you have sliced anyone’s head off, or stuck a spear through them?”

“Good heavens, that would have been the furthest thing from my mind. No, I don’t believe it would have been possible.”

“And so…”

“I take your point.”

Jorelial Rey made sure Lord Maygrew was comfortable on the bench, while Tvrdik went on, “You are a man of character and integrity, my lord, a good man. What you saw was not so far removed from the reality of how you conduct your daily life, and yet the vision held so much power over you. For those who are so much further strayed from the potential of their spirits, who have descended so far into darkness and despair, and have perhaps been violent and deceitful and corrupt, the experience may be far more of a shock. They might, in some cases see themselves as the shriveled, ugly thing they have become, or see the beautiful soul they have corrupted. I believe in most cases, it will be enough to turn our adversaries from their course.”

Praeger, listening, gulped hard, an expression of horror on his thin face, perhaps imagining the visions he might encounter on the oval shield. Boone had arrived in time to hear this last discourse as well, and it was his voice, that of experience, which now spoke out, “Master Wizard, even if your theory works for the most part, those few hard cases who remain unaffected can still do a lot of damage…”

“That is why we have plans to attack from many different angles and in many different ways. If one strategy fails, our hope is that another will succeed.”

Boone asked, “Won’t the warrior who is stopped by this…this truth-mirror simply recover his wits in a little time and rise to fight again?”

Maygrew shook his head, “No, no. I think I can safely testify that confronting that shield is a life-changing experience, the effects of which do not soon wear off.” He still looked pale, and his eyes were swollen with weeping and rimmed with dark circles. “In this, at least, it is quite an effective weapon.”

“Would not the advancing army just adapt, and learn to cover their faces?” Boone persisted.

“Perhaps, but they have never encountered anything like this before, so we have the element of surprise. Blinded, they won’t be very impressive fighters, anyway. And, also, the blue ray has a way of drawing the eyes to its magic. In the most difficult cases, I believe I can set the shield’s intention to do more than reflect…but I get ahead of myself there, and will not speak of that just yet.”

Maygrew was beginning to regain his color and composure. He put a hand on Tvrdik’s shoulder, “You have me convinced, mage. I am almost afraid to ask what other surprises you have up those big sleeves of yours.”

He smiled as he spoke, and Tvrdik responded with a good-natured quip, “A few perhaps. But, then, a wizard doesn’t have to reveal
everything
, now, does he?”

Maygrew clapped him on the back, “I like you, sir. And I am very glad you are on
our
side. I think you had better get busy activating those shields.” He rose, nodded to Jorelial Rey, and took Boone’s arm, “Let’s get back out there on the field where you can teach these amateurs a thing or two about wielding these blamed things.” Boone glanced at Jorelial Rey and also gave her an almost imperceptible nod, but one which meant the world to her, and the two of them went off to join the training exercises. Those who had gathered to watch Lord Maygrew’s encounter, and its aftermath, seeing that all was well, drifted back to their activities. Tvrdik yelled, “Hey, Praeger, look sharp!” and tossed the glowing shield. “Yours is fully functional now, man. Be
very
careful with it.”

Praeger caught the weapon, but held it as if it were made of boiling lava. “Sir, perhaps, some sort of fabric sleeve, or veil for these’d be prudent? Just a precaution, so we don’t go around tormenting one another by accident?”

Joreliel Rey chimed in, “That’s a terrific idea, Master Praeger. That way, we can be prepared in time without courting disasters with the activated ones.”

Praeger beamed at her, “I’ll run and speak to my Maihre about it right away, then, shall I? She’s bound to have a good idea on it, and could probably round up some of the older folk and women, them as won’t be fightin’ on the fields proper, to get them workin’ on it.”

“You do that, friend.” Jorelial agreed, “Tell her to use the palace credit lines to purchase fabric and such, and pay wages.”

“Hey, Praeger,” Tvrdik added, “Ask her nicely. We already have her working hard on my birthday.” He laughed, and Praeger waved in comprehension and hurried off, carrying his own weapon far more gingerly than he had before.

Tvrdik sat down on the bench again. “That
was
a good idea. I have been concerned about having a thousand of these things out wreaking havoc with our own warriors, but Maygrew is right – it’s time I started finishing the job.”

“That little demonstration was risky, but impressive.” Rel said. “I knew what was supposed to happen, but seeing it in front of my eyes was quite another matter.”

“I am a little sorry to have put him through that, but it seemed the only way to convince them it wasn’t just a useless toy. I was pretty sure it wouldn’t do him any real harm…”

“Oh, no. I think, in retrospect, it was a good experience for him, and for others to witness.”

“Aha. Would you like to try it out next, then?” Tvrdik goaded.

“Me? No thank you. I would never want to be confronted by any deep truths about myself.”

Tvrdik’s eyebrows raised, “What an unexpected reaction, Jorelial Rey. I can’t imagine what you would be anxious about. I was under the impression that you were a pretty transparent, no-nonsense sort of person…”

Now it was her turn to crook an eyebrow, “You’d be surprised. I am, in truth, very complicated and private.”

“Oh!” he quipped, in mock surprise.

“In any case,” she sighed, “keep those things away from me, thank you very much. But, changing the subject, Lord Maygrew may seem a gregarious sort, but he does not often give easy compliments. I think he is being genuine about coming to like and respect you.”

“I suppose that’s a good thing, though he has yet to call me by my name.”

“Can you blame him? No one likes to be humiliated in public.” They laughed together like old friends, and then, Tvrdik sighed, slapped his thigh, and said, “Well, if you are going out there, why don’t you spread it around that our warriors can take turns bringing me their shields for activation. I will do as many as I can today.”

“Do you think that’s wise? Before we have the covers?”

“I think Maygrew is right, and I had better stop procrastinating and get started, so that we are not caught again unprepared.” Jorelial Rey nodded, and headed out to the field. Maneuvers only lasted until mid-afternoon that day, when the summer sun became too oppressive to bear. But the young mage sat on his bench until sundown in deep concentration, and poured the blue light of truth into four hundred and fifty shields that day.

THIRTY-FIVE
The Birthday Party

T
VRDIK OPENED HIS EYES RIDICULOUSLY
early on his thirtieth birthday, and could not seem to fall back to sleep. The house was quiet; no one was yet stirring. Through the open window, he could just see shapes of things beginning to be distinguishable in the grey dawn, and just hear the songbirds begin their first serenade. He rose, donned some plain work clothes, and let himself out the front door, taking great care not to let any stray sound wake the house’s inhabitants. A walk, alone, seemed just the medicine for his restless mind and turbulent heart. He headed toward Theriole for a few minutes, until he found what he was looking for – a side path that wound through the gardens before joining the river road again, a ways past The Cottage.

Adopting an unhurried pace, he filled his lungs with the fresh morning air, fragrant with last lilacs and honeysuckle. Most of the irises were done now, but in patches under shady trees, one or two still stood proud and erect, like purple sentinels. The giant rhododendrons were in full bloom, and some of the roses had opened their delicate buds. Butterflies, bees, and hummingbirds were beginning to collect around the flowering bushes, and he stopped to watch their angular, darting dances with delight. The sun was now pushing over the horizon, and color radiated from all the wonders surrounding him, as first light bathed the whole world. He counted at least eighteen distinct shades of green in the gardens this morning. And that was in addition to the fuchsia and magenta, golden yellow, deep blood red, lavender, and a whole collection of blues – so many colors painting the day. The path had taken him up a small hill, an island of higher ground crowned with a few well-placed benches. Tvrdik sat down facing the sea, and gasped at the sky-canvas rolled out before him. The invisible artists of the dawn must have been hard at work for hours on this one. Far in the distance, deep teal waters glinted with sun spangles, while hugging the horizon, swirls of rich orange, deep pink, and saffron gold had been brushed across the sky. Feathery violet clouds sailed lazily through the glowing sky. In the opposite direction, he could barely make out inky shapes he knew to be mountains.

Tvrdik drank in the loveliness of the natural world surrounding him, as a rising chorus of birdsong filled his ears. Realizing how much of life’s sweetness he had habitually taken for granted, he let his eyes fall at whim on every distinct marvel of this lovely day. Softly, he uttered his own inadequate prayer, “Bless this day, and accept my profound gratitude for this timely reminder that life is good. Odd, isn’t it, that now, with danger and an uncertain future ahead, I have at last discovered how very much I cherish my life. Oh, Spirit, in whose hand rests all of our destinies, if it be possible to grant your humble servant more time – more days to savor your rich gifts – I would be grateful. And I would promise never again to let such blessings go by unnoticed and unappreciated.”

He sat for a moment longer on the bench, breathing in the pure, fresh air. As the sun began to climb higher, and the brilliant colors of the sky all turned to cerulean blue, he stood, stretched, and headed back toward The Cottage. He took his time, and all along the way, his heightened senses seemed to magnify every small detail. It was as if each perfect thread in the tapestry before him glowed and pulsed with an inner light, and knew its unique place in the grand plan of all-that-is. Arriving wide-eyed at his own front door, he uttered the familiar words, “Bless this house,” and meant it, from the bottom of his heart.

The house was still quiet, but now because everyone had wakened and gone out about their various tasks. On the dining table was a small plate of bread and fruit, and a note from Mrs. Praeger that read, “Save yer appetite for the party.” Tvrdik chuckled, thinking how novel it was for Mrs. Praeger to encourage him
not
to eat. She must have quite a feast planned for the party. The
party
, he mused, sitting down to his fruit and bread. He had tried to convince the committee not to expand it into a state affair – just a few friends, and a picnic outdoors by the river, he had begged, and he thought he could trust them to comply. It was looking like the weather would cooperate as well, and he was beginning to feel excited, anticipating the festivities.

Those were still many hours away, however. For the moment, he finished his breakfast, washed, dried, and put away the dishes, so they would not be in Mrs. Praeger’s way when she returned. Then he went back to his chambers and set about the business of preparing for a special occasion. He bathed, shaved, washed his hair, and decided on the blue robes, which were clean and light enough for a warm, sunny day. He ran an approving eye over himself in the glass; his face scrubbed and clean-shaven, his pale golden locks swept back from his temples, and the blue of his fresh robe bringing out the unusual color of his eyes, behind their ubiquitous spectacles… “Well, that’s about as good as it is likely to get,” he remarked, to no one in particular, and shrugged. But, it was still early, and no one was home. Looking for a pleasant way to pass the time, he stepped into Xaarus’ great library, combed the shelves until he saw something that caught his attention, and settled into the big comfortable chair for a few hours of stimulating reading.

Three pages later, he was fast asleep in the chair.

He was running through a field, warm sunshine caressing his shoulders and the back of his neck, green grass and many-colored wildflowers springing up around his bare feet. He looked down to see his leggings worn and patched, and short for the gangly, thin legs of a growing fourteen-year-old. He was running as fast as he could, but ahead, he could see Benjin and Ailianne, together as usual, unwilling to wait for him. He saw them halt in their tracks and turn to face him, his heart almost stopping to see her as she looked then, flowing golden hair and lovely face, intelligent eyes free of care, free of fear. Then he realized that the two of them were pointing at him and laughing, making fun of the boy who couldn’t quite keep up. Ailianne’s laughter rang out like little tuned bells, so beautiful – and so cold. He called out to her, and tried to go toward them, but he found he could not move. His feet had disappeared in the long, green grass, and had become rooted, reaching deep into the fertile earth below.

He stretched out his arms to where his schoolmates had stood, but they had vanished, and now his arms were stiffening, and sprouting branches, shoots, and buds. From his head, more limbs snaked and stretched upward to the sky. With a tree’s inner rhythm, and a dreamer’s perspective, he watched the seasons roll by in endless parade – bud to leaf, flower to fruit, ripe fruits plucked and enjoyed by passers-by, leaves turning color and becoming brittle, then falling away into piles below, swirling about his face as windy gusts spun them up and away. Snow falling through skeletal limbs, drifting into dunes below, then melting in spring’s pale sunshine. Birds lighting on his branches, and pouring out their hearts in song. Life coursing up from the earth through his veins, and flowing upward through his outstretched limbs. The entire cycle again and again, over and over in fast motion, until he saw Xaarus come along, bright and happy and whole. The Master plucked one of his fruits, as the seasons ceased their spinning progress, and bit into it.

“Mmmmm. This is delicious, boy,” the old wizard said, “But, you still have not half fulfilled your destiny.” Xaarus waved a shining wand at him, and at once, where he thought his shoulder blades should be, something new sprang forth, and began to grow and unfold. Wings, pale golden and feathered, massive and eager to try the currents of the air. His tree form melted away, as his feet were released from their bondage, and he soared upward, great wings beating the air. He wheeled and looped and dove and climbed upward with glee, reveling in his newfound liberty, and the feeling of sun on his feathered limbs. Xaarus was laughing, and waved at him from below. Then, in a flash of light, he was a large, white owl, hovering in the air, and when he turned his sharp gaze toward anything on the ground, he could see right through whatever it was, to the very core of its being, down to the tiny molecules and atoms that danced and trembled to the music of the spheres, and shone with living lights. The white owl cried out with a piercing shriek, and pumped its mighty muscles, coasting closer to earth. It stretched its great wings wide, but one was caught on something, would not respond, and was flapping about wildly…

Tvrdik’s consciousness surfaced to the odd sensation that his left arm was shaking around all by itself. Confounded by this phenomenon, he opened his eyes to see Stewart tugging and worrying at one blue sleeve, which the dog held firmly in his mouth. The arm just went along for the ride. It fell limply to the wizard’s side as the dog let go his hold, and the hapless book fell from Tvrdik’s lap to the floor with a resounding thud. Stewart sat down.

“A very happy birthday, sir,” he offered. “I am that sorry to wake ye, but it’s gettin’ on with the day, and yer guests are already startin’ to arrive. We thought ye’d want to greet them.”

The mage stared at him sleepily for half a moment, blinked, then sat bolt upright. “Oh, my goodness! The guests? My party. How long have I been dreaming?”

“I could not tell ye, sir. We all arrived home to find ye dozin’ in the chair here, and did not wish to disturb ye until now.”

“Goodness, what a dream I had! But where is the day going? Of course, we should go and welcome everyone. Thank you, Stewart.” He stood, rubbed his eyes, then set about smoothing out his wrinkled robes and tousled hair with his hands. Placing his glasses squarely on his nose, he stood before Stewart. “How do I look?” he asked, with a great deal of uncertainty.

“Like a man about t’ be the center of attention.” Stewart was a born diplomat. “Off wi’ ye, now. Mrs. Praeger has quite the feast comin’ along, and Lady Delphine has arrived with a sack full of plans for the day.”

“Oh, my.” said Tvrdik, with a touch of alarm, and followed Stewart out of the room. The moment they entered the hallway, his nose was greeted with a variety of delicious aromas coming from the kitchen, and he could already hear laughter and conversation drifting in from the parlor. Any hint of trepidation melted away, and a wave of happy anticipation washed over him. What delightful promise this day held!

And the promise was more than fulfilled. All of Tvrdik’s newfound friends were there, and a few extra guests to boot. Stewart and the Praeger family were all in attendance, being his housemates, along with Jorelial Rey and Tashroth. Candelinda was still away on her assignment. Mark and Delphine had brought Nyree along as a special treat, and had also hired a small consort for music and dancing later on the lawn. Bargarelle came, and Brendelle; Verger, with his charming wife Sallia, and Warlowe and his wife Danelli. Andrus was there, and Ondine showed up around back with some of her naiad friends, spending time in the river and in various basins and tubs throughout the day.

The food began appearing almost at once…and kept coming in waves for the duration of the gathering. There was green salad, cabbage salad, potato salad, and bean salad, all made with ingredients fresh from the garden. There were seven different cheeses, soft and hard. There were sweet breads and savory breads, puddings, and a hot summer squash and onion pie that was scrumptious. There was fresh fruit, preserved fruit, dried fruit, and candied fruit. And later on, of course, there was a very special birthday cake, and a whole tray of the little custard tarts that Tvrdik loved so much.

“You know, after the great naval standoff at Theriole,” Bargarelle remarked, “the Palace Chef heard how fond you are of these little pastries, and has taken to calling them Wizard Wheels, after you.” That bit of information turned the mage a deep red, and brought on a great burst of hilarity from all present, as various guests made suggestions for alternate names, such as Tvrdik’s tarts, or mage-muffins. Unfortunately, all of these appellations seemed to have double meanings that had the entire company rolling on the grass in paroxysms of laughter, until Tvrdik scowled at them all in mock disapproval.

There was fresh milk and aged cider, cold tea, and a seemingly endless stream of wines. Tvrdik had been avoiding fermented beverages for a very long time, as they did not mix well with magical concentration. But he decided to make an exception for this special day’s festive occasion, and most everyone partook liberally throughout the day.

There were games. Delphine had taken it upon herself to arrive with a list of competitions testing skill, speed, intelligence, and luck, so that there would never be any opportunity for boredom during the celebration. With a basketful of silly prizes and her usual charm, she wheedled, cajoled, threatened, bargained, and seduced the guests into participating, but, in the end, everyone entered into the various contests in the spirit of fun and playfulness. No one could best Stewart for speed and agility, or Bargarelle for memory and knowledge of trivia. But there were other events that required cooperation, or steadiness, or balance – like walking from point A to point B with an egg balanced on your outstretched downturned hand – where unexpected heroes emerged. There was quite enough glory to spread around. Except that the birthday boy himself grew frustrated with losing badly in every category, and began to use magic to cheat, right out in the open. In response, Tashroth stepped in and plucked up Jorelial Rey by the collar, stretching out his long neck to deposit her a few feet ahead of Tvrdik in his magical winged boots. This elicited loud protests from the other participants, shouts that changed quickly into uproarious laughter, leaving everyone breathless and spent.

There were, of course, gifts. Tvrdik was overwhelmed at their variety and generosity. There were scented candles, and journals of finely tooled leather, pens, and colored inks. There were belts, and tunics, and a knitted wool scarf. Lynette offered him a handmade pottery mug which she had helped to make herself, all painted with bright flowers and smiling suns. The mage wondered if she could see what a priceless treasure it was to him. Andrus presented him with a rare and fascinating old text on contagious diseases and their treatment, a thoughtful and personal gift. Brendelle’s gift was a good-sized jar of an exotic spice from her own country, one she said was among her favorites. Mr. and Mrs. Praeger had constructed him a special wooden chair that actually rocked back and forth when you sat in it –very calming. When they had found the time to construct such a piece confounded him entirely. Ondine and her compatriots brought in a great bundle of a certain type of seaweed plant which he had once told her was very useful in creating healing balms. They had located a source, and took pains to gather it themselves. It would be most useful, and Tvrdik was both impressed and grateful.