Wizard of the Grove (48 page)

The giant had pulled four or five body lengths ahead and continued to walk unhurriedly toward the island.

The brothers glanced at the giant, at each other, and simultaneously stepped forward. The footing remained solid.

Jago sighed deeply and banished thoughts of plummeting down into icy depths, the cold and the water racing to see which could kill first.
I've got to do something about my imagination,
he thought as he kept moving, watching Raulin shrug off even the memory of the fear. Raulin lived wholly in the present and Jago envied him the ability. He grinned as he pictured his brother, resplendent with new wealth, amid the corrupt and fearful aristocrats of the Empire who would, like so many others, take Raulin's bluntness for stupidity. The vision so enthralled him, he didn't notice he'd struck a patch of clear ice until it was brought forcibly to his attention.

“Oof!”

The pack and his many layers of clothing acted as a cushion, but the unexpected fall knocked the breath out of him. He glared up at Raulin and Crystal, who, seeing him unhurt, began to snicker. Even Sokoji's mouth twitched although she, at least, made no sound.

“No need to help,” Jago hid his own laughter under an exaggerated sigh—it probably had looked pretty funny—“I can get up by myself.” He threw himself over onto his stomach, silently cursing the weight of the pack, got his knees under him, and paused a moment, gathering the strength and balance necessary to stand.

The ice, an arm's length from his nose, was a greenish black. No, he
realized with wonder, the ice—ice thick enough to support the giant's passage—was perfectly clear. The water below it was a greenish black.

If the glassmakers could learn to do this . . .
he thought admiringly.

And then his thoughts froze.

A shadow, darker than the water, solid, and large, passed below the ice.

And the ice became, in comparison, very fragile.

“Hey, Jago, you all right?”

The shadow passed again and Jago knew, beyond any doubt, it was aware of him. Aware of all of them.

A long, trailing something, as thick around as Sokoji's thigh, brushed against the lower surface of the ice.

Panic controlling his arms and legs, Jago scrabbled back onto the nearest patch of snow and sat panting. He could no longer see it and that helped, but he still knew it was there. Knew it waited. Knew it wanted.

“Jago?” Raulin dropped to one knee and took hold of the younger man's shoulders. “What is it?”

“Something . . .” He took a shuddering breath and tried again. “Something under the ice.”

“Are you certain?” Sokoji asked.

Jago looked up at the giant and nodded.

“Then perhaps it would be best if we kept walking.”

“Good idea,” Raulin agreed, standing. “Present a moving target.”

“And get
off
the ice,” added Crystal, pulling Jago to his feet.

He clung to her hands for a moment, taking comfort in the strength that had all but lifted both him and the extra weight of the pack, feeling the warm pressure of her fingers through his mitts.

“Take a wizard to breach a wizard's tower,” he said, a plea for reassurance in his voice.

Crystal met his eyes and, for an instant, openly wore the mantle of her power. Even shattered as it was, held together by the wizard's will alone, it blazed with a painful glory. Then it faded, replaced by the concern of a friend. “I didn't stop an avalanche,” she told him with exaggerated pique, “in order to feed you to a fish.”

The remaining distance to the island became the longest distance Jago ever walked. With every step, he expected the ice to crack and break and let the hunger that it sheltered out to feed. He didn't doubt Crystal's power. He didn't want to test it.

The others were nervous, he saw it in the way they carried themselves; movements a little jerky, heads cocked to one side and brows drawn down as if to give eyes and ears a better chance to give warning. They all avoided the clear patches of ice.

When he stepped up on land at last, relief hit with such force that if Raulin hadn't grabbed his arm he would've sagged to the ground.

“I'm okay,” he protested, embarrassed at his weakness.

“Sure you are,” Raulin said noncommittally, and held on until he felt Jago could stand on his own.

As they walked away from the shore, Jago viciously buried the thought that threatened to immobilize him. To get off the island, they would have to recross the ice.

The island looked very little different from the lake; a smaller circle, about a hand's span higher, and covered by that same hard snow. They could see the ruin of the gatehouse clearly now. Here, a wall, still vibrantly red even after centuries, stood alone and unsupported. There, the flip of a tiled roof poked out of the white. From the center of the island rose a small square building, still half buried under drifts.

“But it's only . . .” Raulin raised his hand horizontally to about mid-chest. “We won't be able to stand up.”

“I stood in it,” Sokoji reminded him. “It was not built level with the surface of the island. There are stairs around the corner.”

“Is that where you sprang the trap?” Crystal asked, flexing long fingers, her hair rippling on the still air. She could feel power waiting in this place and it grew stronger as they neared the center.

“One of them. The ancient wizards trusted no one, least of all their fellows. Their towers, their strongholds were built to keep out,” the giant paused and searched for the correct word, “visitors.”

“Don't you mean intruders?”

She shook her head. “No, their paranoia was never that justified.”

Crystal considered what it would mean to trust no one and to have no one trust you. “They must've been very lonely,” she said softly.

Sokoji studied the last living wizard, her face thoughtful. “Yes, they must have been.”

Indicating Raulin with one hand and Jago with the other, Crystal smiled. Here was her trust. “Don't worry, Sokoji.”

Sokoji nodded and half-smiled, understanding what Crystal was telling her, but still looking thoughtful.

“The traps . . .” Raulin prodded. They were still advancing toward the gatehouse and he wanted to know what they'd face before they arrived.

“All the traps I sprang were tied to the life forces of the Elder Races.”

“Which means?” Jago asked, although he had a nasty suspicion he knew.

“Others must exist tied to the life forces of mortals and wizards.”

“Which we'll have to find?”

“Yes.”

“But Aryalan's been dead for thousands of years,” Raulin protested. “How much trouble can something this old give us?”

“It almost killed me,” Sokoji told them, her voice even slower and weightier than usual. “If Aryalan were still alive and able to feed power and direction to her guardians, I could not have won.”

“Lovely.”

“Thank you.”

Raulin flushed. “No, I didn't mean . . . oh, never mind.”

Jago, whose line of sight took in Sokoji's face, smiled in spite of the situation. He simply hadn't been able to convince his brother that the giant possessed a sense of humor.

In the years since Sokoji had been inside the tower, winter had refilled the stairwell leading down into the gatehouse, leaving only a dimple in the surface of the snow.

Raulin let his pack crash to the ground and straightened up with a groan. “Looks like shoveling,” he sighed.

They could see the top lintel of the door, carved with fantastic birds and beasts, but nothing more.

“At least a body length of shoveling if that door's standard size,” Jago added, dropping his pack with a little more control but an equal amount of relief. “And if Sokoji went through it, I'm betting we've her body length to clear, not ours.”

Crystal stepped into the dimple and spread her hands. The snow flashed green and disappeared. She stood at the top of a broad flight of black marble stairs. At the bottom loomed a door, also black, and large enough for the giant to enter without so much as having to incline her head.

“That may not have been wise,” Sokoji said solemnly. “Any power remaining here will now know a wizard has returned.”

“Any power remaining knew the moment I entered the valley.” Crystal pointed back to where the dragon rested. “That avalanche was no accident.”

“What's done is done,” Raulin declared philosophically. “And what's done beats shoveling.” He slid over the lip of snow and onto the stairs. The small flurry he brought with him melted away as it touched the steps. He shook off a mitten, bent and drew a finger along the slick surface. The luster of the marble made it look wet. It wasn't.

“I destroyed the trap set on the stairs for my kind,” Sokoji informed him, “but there may be others set for yours. Shall I come with you, or will you descend alone?”

Raulin looked down the length of black, each step as perfect and sharp edged as the day it had been set. “Alone,” he decided. “Less distractions.”

“Careful,” Jago warned, advancing to the edge but no farther. “Check everything.”

“Don't teach grandma to suck eggs, little brother.” A memory stirred and he heard his master sergeant screaming orders.
Amazing the things you pick up amid the rape and slaughter,
he thought, inspecting each step before moving onto it. He knew marble could be
trapped in the same ways as wood—stairs were stairs, after all—but he suspected he was missing any number of nasty . . .

Stone snapped down on stone.

Raulin froze. Until he saw which way the danger lay, going back could be as deadly as going ahead.

A panel in the base of the door burst open.

Raulin got a vague glimpse of scales and claws and teeth. He had time to shape them into a large and ugly lizard but no time for fear before the thing was on him. He twisted, fell, and slid almost half the remaining distance to the door.

The lizard overshot. Claws scrabbling for purchase on the marble, it whirled to attack.

A piercing noise split the air.

It reared, tail lashing.

Jago whistled again.

It charged.

Jago stood unmoving, smiling slightly.

As it struck, it disappeared.

His heart loud in his ears, Raulin levered himself up onto his knees and yanked his scarf away from his mouth. He felt like he couldn't get enough air. “Thanks, Crystal,” he panted. “That's another one I owe you.”

“I didn't do anything,” Crystal told him. “It was Jago.”

“Jago?” Raulin twisted around to face his brother. “What did you do?” he demanded.

Jago shrugged. “It was a gowie lizard,” he explained. “They live in very hot climates. Coming out into this kind of cold would stop it dead.” They all watched—as if noticing for the first time—while he huffed out a white plume of breath illustrating the temperature. “In fact, the cold would probably kill it.”

“Fascinating,” Raulin growled. “But what did you do?”

Jago shrugged again. “I disbelieved it.”

“An illusion?”

“Seems that way.”

Raulin flushed. “I feel like an idiot.” He got to his feet. “That was a mortal trap?” he asked Sokoji.

The giant spread her hands. “I saw nothing.”

“Illusion!” Raulin spat out the word. “I should've known. Kraydak used illusion all the time. I've seen them before. Chaos, I've fought with them.”

“Well, I've created them and I didn't identify it until it disappeared.” Crystal's self-mocking tones lifted Raulin out of the guilt he seemed ready to fall into. “Next time you'll know.”

“Next time,” Sokoji put in, standing on the top step, “it will be real and you'll die. A wizard's tower holds stranger things than gowie lizards.”

“That's not very encouraging.” Crystal frowned at the giant.

Sokoji thought about it for a moment.

“No,” she agreed. “It isn't.”

“Do you want me to come down?” Crystal asked, eyeing Raulin with concern.

He shook his head and rubbed an elbow that had slammed into the marble. “I'm okay, just bruised. Anyway,” he measured the distance he'd fallen and the distance he still had to go, “I'm almost there.”

The next seven steps were clear. He reached the door safely, turned and grinned. “If that was her attempt at keeping mortals out, I can't say as I'm very impressed.” He pulled off his hat and wiped beads of sweat off his forehead. “It's warmer down here.”

“And warmer still inside,” Sokoji said.

Inside.

Raulin turned back to the door, feeling dwarfed. It rose taller than the giant and spread almost twice Sokoji's not inconsiderable width. Its six lacquered panels were carved with marvelously detailed scenes of wild animals nearly impossible to see at more than a few inches away, for the black absorbed all the light that fell upon it. The ruin of a large brass lock dominated the middle right side.

“What a mess.” He ran his fingers over the broken metal. “Looks like Sokoji put her fist through this on that last visit.” Peering back over
one shoulder, he raised an eyebrow in the giant's direction. Sokoji inclined her head, admitting the action.

“Okay, there's no sense putting all our eggs in one basket. You three stay there until I check this out.”

Crystal began a protest, but Jago gripped her arm and shook his head.

“He wants us out of the way when he opens the door.”

“But what about him?”

“He knows what he's doing.”

But both of them realized that if something came out the door, knowledge would do little good.

“It swings in,” he called, placing his hand against the shattered lock. He took a deep breath, pushed, and dove to one side in the same motion.

Silently, the great door swung open.