Hamilton Swoop, Wizard of Green Ridge (7 page)

Roscoe hurried ahead until Hamilton asked him to slow down. “Roscoe, where are all the people? I don't see any indication that, ah, Thermite has entered the city. What are they afraid of?"

"Last week, it burned the bank. That's just two blocks from here. People left quickly after that."

"So the wards didn't work."

"Wards, sir?"

"Never mind."

"Yes, sir. The messenger's office is over there, sir.” Roscoe pointed to a slate-sided building with a marquee bearing the words
Norkon Messenger Service, Amil Quinn, Proprietor.

"Thanks for your help, boy. Here's a half-royal for you. You can return to the inn."

The boy accepted the coin. “Thank you, sir.” Roscoe half bowed then took off at a run in the direction of the inn.

Hamilton entered the building. A tall man of dark complexion looked up from behind a counter. “A message to send, sir?"

"Are you Mr. Quinn?"

"Aye. I'm Amil Quinn, the owner. Do you have a message to send?"

The man looked to be about Hamilton's age. There was little hair left on his head and what remained had turned gray. Behind the owner was a wall of over a hundred cubby holes. All, but two of them were empty.

"No. I am seeking information."

Quinn's hopeful smile melted into a frown. “And who might you be?"

"I'm Master Citrine. I understand that you have seen the dragon breathe fire. Is this so?"

"Are you that wizard that Diamond's been talking about? The one that's going to kill the dragon?"

"I suppose so."

"Then bless you, sir. That dragon has just about wiped out my business. Anything I can do to be of service, you have but to ask. Would you like some coffee? I've just brewed me a pot."

"Thank you. I would."

While Quinn was pouring the coffee, he asked, “So you wanted to know about the dragon, yes?"

"Yes. Did you actually see it breathe fire?"

The messenger brought the coffee over and offered a cup to Hamilton. “I did. Saw the beast set fire to Jason Carroll's place, just outside of town. Didn't look right, though."

Hamilton took a sip of the coffee and placed the cup on the counter. “How so?"

"Well, I'd never seen a dragon before, but I've read a bit about them. This one spits out this white stuff. Sort of a liquid, you know. Well, just before this stream of stuff hits Jason's place, it flashes into flame. Like it was burning down from the dragon's mouth. Sort of like a long, fast fuse. Know what I mean?"

"Not really."

"Well, say you've got a cup of fish oil. You start pouring it and then light it at the cup. The fire burns down the stream. Like that. The fire burned Jason's place to the ground in minutes."

"What happen to Jason?"

"He wasn't home at the time. Mostly though, the dragon doesn't set fire to buildings. Mostly he just crushes them. Must weigh quite a bit."

"Is Carroll's house close?” asked Hamilton.

"'Bout a mile out of town, on the West Road. I can show you if you like."

"If it wouldn't be too much trouble. I wouldn't want to take you away from your business."

Quinn gestured about the empty office. “See any business? Be glad to. Finish your coffee, and I'll lock up."

They arrived at the remains of Jason Carroll's place mid-afternoon after seeing no one along the way. The warmth of the day had cleared much of the snow from the road. The patches that remained were undisturbed. “Well, this was his home,” gestured Quinn. “Now it is pretty much charcoal."

Hamilton climbed the steps to the entrance. He sniffed at the blackened door. Then he traced the periphery of the building looking at the singed grass where the snows had melted. Finally, he saw what he had been looking for. “Is there some kind of container around? Something small."

Quinn poked through the rubble and spotted a jar. The glass was blackened, but still unbroken. “How about this?” He picked it up and brought it to Hamilton.

"Perfect.” He took the jar from Quinn, removed the lid and dumped the remains of some preserved peaches on the ground. Then he got down on his knees and pushed the blob of white jelly-like material into the jar with a stick.

"What did you find?"

"This.” Hamilton held the jar at eye level. “Does this look like the stuff that the dragon spit out?"

"Could be. I wasn't very close when I saw it happen. Want to look inside?"

"Yes."

Quinn strode to what was left of the blackened door and opened it. Hamilton followed him. Not much to see, but with the roof gone there was plenty of light. Everything was charred. After a half hour, and with his hands and clothing covered with soot, Hamilton noticed something glowing in the shadows. He moved over and picked it up.

"What'd you find?” asked Quinn.

"I don't know. Any idea what this is?” Hamilton picked up a polished metal cylinder about twelve inches long and two inches thick. It glowed with a faint green light. The glow disappeared in the sunlight.

Quinn looked at the rod. “Nope. Never seen anything like it."

Hamilton held the cylinder in a shadow and the green light could be seen again. “I'll take it to the Guild and see what their alchemists can make out of it.” He took a final look about the room. “Can't see anything else worthwhile. Guess we can leave now."

After the hike back to the office with the Chief Messenger, Hamilton said good-bye to Quinn and then returned to the inn. The sun was low in the sky by the time he entered the lobby.

Thackeray hailed him. “Master Citrine, you have a visitor from your Guild. I took the liberty of allowing access to your suite."

"Not a problem, Mr. Thackeray.” The manager beamed at being called by name.

Hamilton waited for the lift and its slow passage to his floor. He reached his door and opened it hoping that the visitor was Thalia. If not her, Diamond. It was neither.

"Name's Argus,” boomed a short man significantly older than Hamilton with a face that tended toward a smile. He offered his outstretched hand and Hamilton shook it. His grip showed remarkable strength.

"Argus? The Runemaster?"

"The same. I examined the list of runes that you provided to Master Diamond. May I ask how you came to acquire them?"

"I bought them in Green Ridge about a week ago."

"You bought them?"

"It was my business. Buying and selling. I found some items in a trunk I bought. Several had runes on them. Also, the remains of Master Obsidian were in the trunk as well."

"You are Master Citrine, are you not?” Argus looking somewhat confused.

"Technically, I was Master Citrine, a long time ago. Right now, I am just Hamilton Swoop, tradesman."

"Oh, yes. Master Diamond told me about the lock spell. Most regrettable. My apprentices are searching the records now for the key. I'm sure that they will find it. May I sit down? I am quite tired."

"Of course, of course.” Hamilton gestured to a chair. “Were you waiting long?"

"Thank you,” the Runemaster eased himself down into a chair. “No. I arrived just a few minutes ago. I left the Guild as soon as I translated the runes. Most remarkable."

"Remarkable?"

"Yes. They are quite ancient and..."

A knock at the door interrupted him. Hamilton admitted Roscoe with a cart full of food. Hamilton tipped him and the boy left. “The inn has provided us with dinner. Hungry?"

"As a matter of fact ... it's been a while since I have eaten.” His eyes almost bulged at the plethora of food.

"Help yourself then."

Did I hear food?
Whiskers entered the room from the bedroom.

Argus noticed the cat. “Is that Whiskers? Thorn Brightman's cat?” Whiskers walked over to the Runemaster and permitted him to scratch her behind the ears.

"Yes. Thorn left her to me to look after when he passed. She's a good cat, but a bit chatty."

"That so?"

Master Argus, would you pass the fish, please?

The Runemaster smiled and placed the bowl on the floor.

"You can understand her too?"

"Of course. It's a wizard spell. Considering your circumstance, I'm surprised that you can hear her."

"So you knew Thorn?"

"For many years. I first met him when he was an apprentice. A gentle soul.” Argus spoke between bites. He ate like he had been starving, but there was plenty of food to go around. Then, when they got to the beer, he sat back from the table, belched, pardoned himself, and asked, “Why am I here?"

Hamilton wasn't sure that he wanted to know what the runes had revealed, but prompted, “You said that you had translated the runes I brought."

"The runes? Oh, yes, the runes. Remarkable."

Hamilton waited a moment. When Argus said nothing, he asked, “So what did they say?"

"Say? Oh, yes. The one that you identified as the lock plate rune was some sort of curse. Something about death to any who would violate the trunk.” Argus grinned. “A simple protect spell with a lethal punch. There were some other runes in that section I couldn't figure out, though. I'll have to check my reference books. I presume that you opened the trunk. How did you detect the spell?"

"Huh? I didn't. I just opened it with a key."

"Then you must have been the one it was intended for. How lucky for you."

Yes, how lucky for you,
echoed Whiskers.

"Shut up, cat.” Then Hamilton turned back to the Runemaster. “That remains to be seen, Master Argus. What about the other two runes?"

"The ... other ... two ... runes?” Argus put his empty beer mug on the table.

"You translated three set of runes that I left with Master Diamond. Remember?"

"Of course I remember. Three sets of runes. Remarkable."

"What did the other two say? The other two sets of runes?"

"Well, one was more protection. It looked like a cloak spell. Yes? A very powerful one, but it was a spell I've never seen before. It
is
a protection spell. I'm sure of that, but as far as what or who it offers protection from ... I can't help you."

Hamilton, hoping to keep the ball rolling replied, “And the third set of runes? How did that set translate?"

"The third rune? Oh yes. That one was the most remarkable of all. Is there another beer?"

Hamilton rushed to the cart and retrieved another beer for the old wizard. The Runemaster looked at the beer like it had appeared magically and then took a healthy drink. “The third rune set.” He pointed at Hamilton. “Thought I'd forgotten, right?” He paused for a moment and then continued, “Well, I didn't forget. The problem is, I have no idea what those runes mean. You know, I've studied runes over a period of, of ... almost two hundred years, but I've never seen such as these. Where did you find them?"

"On a Sorensen Orb."

"On a-a Sorensen Orb? Really?"

Hamilton retrieved the orb and offered it to the Runemaster. “Careful, it's quite heavy."

Argus received it gingerly. He stared at it with a blank expression as he slowly rotated it about in his hands. Suddenly it was as if someone had lit a flame behind the old man's eyes. “My Gods, man. This thing's a Sorensen Orb!"

"Thank you for the confirmation, Runemaster. I suspected as much."

Argus became very agitated, “B-but do you know how d-dangerous that t-thing can b-be?” He paused and tried compose himself by taking a deep breath and slowly exhaling. “What was it m-made for?"

Hamilton shrugged. “I was hoping that the runes on the orb might answer that, but if Center City's Runemaster can't translate them, I don't know who can."

"Now wait a minute. I didn't say I
couldn't
translate them, did I? What I meant was, I haven't translated them yet. These will take some further study. I'll have to research some of the orb archives. Sure to be an answer there."

"Well, I look forward to finding out what they mean."

"Of course you do. Of course you do. In any case I must return to the Guild. Looks like I've got a long night's task ahead of me.” He started to get to his feet.

"Runemaster, before you go.” Hamilton rose to help the old wizard stand. “Thalia told me that the Brown Plague killed all of the Guild's elder wizards. Did you join the Guild after that?"

Argus shuffled toward the door. “The plague did kill off many of the elder wizards. Pretty much everyone older than 300 or so. But, then, I'm only er, 205? 207?” He scrunched up his lip in attempted concentration even as a wave of confusion spread across his face.

With that, he opened the door and headed down the hall. Hamilton could hear him mumbling “208? 210? A Sorensen Orb. Remarkable. Remarkable!” His voice trailed off as he headed for the lift.

Hamilton closed the door and shook his head. “Poor old guy's losing it."

Lost it a long time ago. He was the same the last time I saw him. Hasn't changed a bit.

Hamilton put the orb back in the box. Then he removed the green cloak and examined it. “Well, looks like I got some protection, at least."

Whiskers looked up from her food bowl.
Ah, but protection from what?

It was mid-afternoon by the time the Guild called again, this time in the person of Thalia. Hamilton greeted her at the door and once more the smell of sandalwood filled his nostrils.

"So, what news do you bring?” he asked.

Thalia smiled and replied, “Master Diamond believes that he has found the key to the lock spell that was put on you. He requests that you return with me to the Guild so that it can be applied."

"Found the key, did he? Well, we shouldn't keep him waiting. Let me get my coat."

Hamilton retrieved it from the bedroom. His feelings were mixed. He missed being able to direct energy with his mind. On the other hand, he was more or less happy in Green Ridge and he knew if his power was unlocked his life would never be the same again.

Whiskers looked up from the center of the comforter.
Take me with you. I want to see this Guild of yours.

You wouldn't like it,
thought Hamilton.

Listen, Old Man. I can read people better than you can. You have nothing to lose by taking me with you and maybe something to gain. Besides, I'm beginning to feel a bit hemmed in staying here while you go traipsing all over the place.