The Young Magician (The Legacy Trilogy) (28 page)

They had been blown quite a distance away, but the men had found new strength along with Samuel’s spells and were oaring their vessel in the right direction. Each stroke sent them speeding along and the sailors laughed to each other as if they had already become heroes.

‘Like a mill pond!’ one called out above the wind and they laughed again.

Samuel wished he could share their optimism. He kept his eyes towards the rocks as they surged nearer. The scene became clearer as they crested each wave and he could see the three longboats floating beside the shoals, sitting in a circle of perfectly calm water. Master Glim’s boat was between the other two, and he stood in his tiny vessel, throwing out spells that calmed the waters around them. Samuel’s awe of the man was renewed, for the mighty waves that rolled in upon them dropped instantly flat the moment they touched his spell. Spells of Lifting surged out from the two Adept on the seaward side of the
Merry Widow.

The ship gave a long miserable groan as the spells took effect and it began lifting from the sea, gushing water from its ruptured side. The tiny figures of men could be seen darting about on the deck of the vessel—no doubt they were the last of the sailors, too afraid to throw themselves onto the jagged rocks or into the wild seas.

Once more Samuel’s craft sank down between wave crests and his view was lost.

‘Hurry!’ he urged his men and he could sense them straining on, the veins in their necks popping out with effort.

Samuel could hear the ship howling and moaning and as he crested the last wave, he could see the front of the ship was now fully raised from the rocks. Spells came from all around, from Master and Adept alike, dragging the massive ship in towards the harbour, slowly clawing it from the sea. The horrid noises continued emanating from the ship as it lurched and twisted under their spells. Samuel could see the magic at work, but it was obvious to him that there was quite a problem—the spells were lifting and pulling in almost every direction and not working together at all. The magicians were too distracted, too inexperienced and too impatient. Samuel wondered how much force the vessel could withstand before it was torn completely apart. As his longboat swooped down and entered Master Glim’s circle of tranquillity, the older man looked towards him with worry. Samuel stood in his rocky boat and threw up a hand, beginning a spell to try and unify all the others, when his worst fear was terribly and horribly realised.

The
Merry Widow
cracked in two with a thunderous boom and an explosion of wood and splinters. The aft section screamed and collapsed back into the foaming waves and was swallowed immediately with a cavernous gulp of rushing water. The bow section, still gripped by most of the spells, was thrown suddenly into the air like a child’s plaything. Timbers tore apart and flew into the sky, raining down all over, pelting the sea and rocks and men like a rain of arrows. The remains of the ship began to fall all around them, pieces the size of houses. Samuel quickly threw up a shielding spell to protect them as his wide-eyed sailors yelled out in fear and surprise and tried to cover themselves.

Master Glim vanished as a huge beam of wood fell upon him and he and his vessel of men were abruptly swallowed beneath the sea. Master Glim’s calming spell vanished along with him and the waves surged in upon them all. Samuel fell back onto the floor of their vessel as it was thrown around in all directions like a leaf in a storm. He had to hold on as tightly as he could and keep all his effort on maintaining his spells so they would not be drowned. Debris rained down all around them and Samuel had only his luck to thank that nothing penetrated his shield. With considerable effort, he formed a new spell, as close to Master Glim’s as he could manage from his brief observation and, after a few dreadful moments, the sea all around them began to calm and their longboat stopped its spinning and turning and settled still. Samuel only realised he was breathing hard when he felt the burning of his chest and the tiredness in his jaw. After long moments, Samuel noticed one of the sailors was shouting at him while another was vomiting at his feet.

‘My Lord! What do we do?’

Samuel looked at the sailor. He could not think of any words to give the man and so he slowly surveyed the scene all around. Their boat sat in a tiny circle of calm, speckled with floating debris, amongst waves that surged all around. He released his shielding spell and the spells he had formed earlier to steady their boat—Master Glim’s tranquillity spell was all they should need from now. He took another deep breath and began to push more power into Master Glim’s spell. Slowly, the circle of calm around them grew, pushing away the mountainous swell until it seemed they were amidst a strange, still and watery field.

‘By the old gods!’ Samuel heard one sailor hiss as the situation became clearer. Mage-lights were darting all around overhead as if searching, but the magicians still on the shore side of the rocks could not be seen beyond the waves and spray. An upturned longboat and several men were floating nearby, some splashing, some still.

‘There!’ Samuel instructed, pointing his finger towards the floating men. The sailors leapt into action and began rowing as he directed.

Three men could be seen grasping the side of their vessel and they struggled over to Samuel’s boat as he neared. Samuel quickly formed a spell and, with a gesture, turned over their craft and emptied it of water. Another sailor with a blood-seeping head swam nearby with the limp form of Master Glim floating in his arms. Samuel put them into the other boat with barely a thought. He did not have time to notice that his own four men were gawking at his spells with awe. Master Glim was alive, but clutching at his shoulder and gritting his teeth in pain, muttering to himself.

‘Over there!’ someone called and Samuel spied the two Adept and the remaining sailors all paddling towards them. It was miraculous that none of them had died, but the chunks of flesh-filled clothing that bobbed here and there spoke of a different fate for the sailors of the
Merry Widow
. Overloading the two longboats, they managed to recover everyone and they started back for the sheltered waters.

Once again within the protection of the bay, Samuel let his spells fade, for his head now ached with the exertion and his limbs felt numb and stone-heavy. Shards of hull and mast and sail floated atop the water beside numerous bobbing corpses. The sailors at Samuel’s side used the last of their strength to get the low-lying boat back to shore, flanked by an escort of Masters.

Samuel, first onto the jetty despite his unsteady legs, offered a hand to Master Glim, who was conscious, but obviously disoriented and groggy.

Master Glim accepted Samuel’s hand and was up beside him, shaking his head. ‘A disaster,’ he managed to say with a raspy voice.

‘A disaster,’ Samuel agreed, wearily.

Master Glim nodded. ‘I fear things could have turned out far worse for all of us. We were very lucky we didn’t all drown.’

‘I agree,’ Samuel nodded. The man did not seem to realise that Samuel had saved them all. The blow to his head must have dazzled the old teacher, but Samuel did not care. He was entirely spent and exhausted.

‘I must tell Grand Master Anthem about this,’ Master Glim said. ‘I’m sure he will be very angry. Many lives have been lost this night, not entirely because of those two foolish Adept, but their actions certainly did not help.’ He shook his head once more. ‘The task was way beyond us.’

Samuel nodded. ‘I need to rest. I’m exhausted.’

‘As am I. That is the way. We have both spent too much power and our bodies must pay the toll. We need a little rest.’

Master Glim turned and walked slowly down the pier, where he began talking with some of the other Masters who had gathered there. He had recovered surprisingly quickly, but Samuel still felt weary as if about to faint. He staggered, wet and shivering, towards the others, who were just climbing from their vessels.

‘What happened out there, Samuel?’ Goodfellow asked. He had his arms folded and was shivering. His glasses were speckled with seawater.

‘I’ll tell you on the way back to the school. There’s nothing else we can do here. The Masters have everything under control—and I think I’m going to pass out any moment.’

Eric grabbed Samuel just as his knees were buckling, and helped him remain standing, throwing Samuel’s arm over his shoulder. Goodfellow went to Samuel’s other side, and together, they carried him between them, pushing through the crowd of onlookers and heading back towards the School of Magic.

‘What did those Adept think they were doing out there?’ Goodfellow asked.

‘Trying to get themselves killed,’ Eric commented.

‘They thought they could help,’ Samuel replied, ‘but they were foolish to think so. The sea was too rough. If not for Master Glim, they would have been done for. When the ship exploded, I did everything I could just to pick them all up and get back into the harbour.’

‘Do you think there will be punishment for the two Adept?’ Goodfellow asked.

‘I don’t think so,’ Samuel said wearily. ‘I think rather that Master Glim will only tell them of their foolishness and warn them to act more wisely next time. Personally, I’d have them put in the stocks for a few days. They deserve much worse.’

‘Perhaps you will receive a reward for bringing them all back safely, Samuel,’ Eric suggested.

‘I don’t think so,’ Samuel replied. ‘Master Glim was unconscious and didn’t know what was going on. I don’t think he realised I saved him at all.’

‘You should tell him!’ Goodfellow stated.

‘No,’ Samuel answered, barely able to keep his eyes open. ‘I’m just happy to be alive. I’ve decided I don’t like the sea as much as I thought.’

The others nodded and they shivered their way back towards the School of Magic along the dark city streets.

A few days later, Samuel was sitting downstairs reading over his notes and chewing on a hunk of bread, when two Adept came stomping into the dormitory to find him. They loomed over him angrily with their arms folded and brows furrowed.

The two Erics were chatting idly at another table and they stopped to observe what was going on. Goodfellow blinked and adjusted his spectacles and Eric Pot looked on with concern.

‘You are Samuel?’ one asked.

‘That’s right,’ Samuel said, still chomping on his bread.

‘We are the ones you helped the other night, with the
Merry Widow
.’

‘Oh!’ Samuel exclaimed with sudden realisation. ‘Sorry. I didn’t recognise you. It was dark and wet. I didn’t have time to see who you were.’

The two Adept looked at each other before the second one spoke. ‘We just want to clear things up,’ he said. ‘It’s something of a delicate matter. Of course, we’d like to thank you for helping us, but now we find ourselves in a rather embarrassing position.’

‘Robert!’ Eric called out. ‘What are you two on about?’

‘Shut your mouth, Pot!’ the second Adept, named Robert, called back, shaking his finger at him. ‘We’re speaking with Samuel, so it’s none of your concern.’

‘You two are idiots! If not for Master Glim and Samuel, you’d both be dead now,’ Eric replied, with a hint of anger, but Samuel calmed him with a raised hand.

‘It’s not a problem, Eric,’ he said calmly. ‘Let them go on.’

‘Well, there’s a small matter of our reputation to attend to,’ the first Adept, Artam, said to Samuel. ‘Word has somehow been passed around that we caused all this trouble and that we needed you to save us. Now our names are as good as rubbish. We just can’t have everyone thinking that we needed some foreign apprentice to get us out of trouble.’

‘Which you did,’ Eric called out.

‘Shut it, Pot!’ Robert shouted again, throwing a vile look, but Eric just laughed and shook his head.

‘And what about Master Glim?’ Artam continued. ‘We all know he was responsible for saving us all and all this talk is only soiling his good Turian name.’

‘I understand,’ Samuel said. ‘But I haven’t spoken to anyone about it.’

‘Good,’ Robert said. ‘Then I trust we won’t have to speak again.’

The two Adept twirled in their cloaks dramatically and left.

‘They don’t seem very mature,’ Samuel stated.

‘That’s Artam Ritter and Robert Mundle,’ Goodfellow informed him. ‘They’ve always been troublesome and they don’t have many friends in the school. They like to make life difficult for any apprentices they come across, especially for us Outlanders. They’re both Imperials and they know it well. You’re lucky they haven’t bothered you before now.’

‘Well, they can do as they please,’ Samuel said, ‘as long as they don’t bother me any further.’

Eric laughed. ‘Good for you, but I’m sure they’ll try to make things difficult for you when they can. Let me know if they do. I wouldn’t mind getting my knuckles dirty on those two.’

Samuel laughed. ‘Very well,’ he replied, only just realising it had been a long time since he had been involved in a scuffle himself.

Samuel only had to wait another day before meeting the two Adept once again. While striding across the school grounds, he was confronted once more by the two young men, each looking furious.

‘Now people are saying we were crying when we came back to the jetty!’ Robert declared angrily. ‘And we are the laughing stock of all the Adept.’