Kazin's Quest: Book I of The Dragon Mage Trilogy (55 page)

“You don’t know?” asked the mage, surprised. He was sweating from the fight and light reflected off his hidden features.

“No!” said Sherman, striking at the mage again.

The mage laughed tauntingly. “Ha! You truly don’t, do you?”

“Tell me!” demanded Sherman. He was also sweating and the cuts on his arms and chest bore witness to the mage’s weapon skill. Zylor and Harran looked on, their opponents now vanquished. Frosty stood nearby but didn’t interfere.

Kazin raised his hand in preparation for a spell.

“No!” said Frosty loudly in his mind. He had noticed Kazin’s gesture out of the corner of his eye. “Allow Sherman to work this out. He must fight for what he truly wants to hear.”

Sherman was beyond anger now. The mage’s taunting behaviour only goaded him into making sloppy attacks. He needed to treat this fight like a test. He needed to keep his head. He used every tactic at his disposal, but the mage parried successfully each time.

Then he recalled telling the minotaur that strength alone would not do against an equally strong opponent. Skill was needed to offset the equality. This held true in reverse for an equally skilled opponent who was weaker. He realized strength was his only advantage over this skilled opponent. He was bigger, so he had to make use of this advantage. All he was doing so far was using his skill, not his strength.

The warrior built up a bit of momentum with several quick blows and used that momentum to force the mage back. Little by little, the mage backed up, using his sword only in defence against the warrior’s onslaught.

Finally, the mage was backed up against a large boulder. Sherman smashed his sword down on the mage and the black robed figure tried to hold off the blow with his chipped and battered sword. Sherman’s sword was flawless. He pressed down on the mage’s weapon and the mage gradually began to weaken. Sherman’s sword came dangerously close to the mage’s throat.

“Tell me!” growled Sherman through clenched teeth.

“Forget it!” rasped the mage. With a last ditch effort he brought his foot up and against the warrior’s chest, thrusting him backward onto the ground. Then he brought his sword down hard—on the spot where Sherman was a moment earlier. He looked in surprise at Sherman’s sword lodged in his chest before sagging slowly to the ground.

Sherman got up and rolled the mage over. “Tell me!” he demanded. He hastily yanked the mage’s hood down. “Tell me, you little—!” He paused. “Randall?!”

Chapter 44

T
he former farmhand from Marral looked up at the warrior with an evil grin. His voice was raspy as he spoke. “You want to know more about your identity, Guardian? Then I’ll tell you.” He stopped and coughed, blood seeking escape from the corners of his mouth. “You aren’t who you think you are. Ask your so-called father. He knows your heritage. He knows better than anyone, except maybe Grakath. But Grakath is powerful. Even a warrior such as yourself stands no chance against such power.”

“Who is this Grakath?” asked Sherman. “Where can I find him?”

Randall laughed hoarsely. “He will find you, Guardian, and when he does, you’ll wish he hadn’t.”

“Did you send all those assassins after me?” asked Sherman.

Randall nodded weakly.

“Why, Randall?” asked Sherman. “Why did you spend all that time working on my parent’s farm and then trying to kill me?”

“I was ordered to seek you out,” rasped Randall. “When I found you, I was told to spy on you at first. What better way—cough—to spy on you than to work right on the farm? I was brought up on a farm so the work was—cough—second nature to me. Later, when I was told to kill you, I sent word to the assassins via my pet pigeons your mother so graciously allowed me to have. The fools all failed. I thought I would fare better myself, but—cough—I was wrong.” Randall coughed up some blood and his body shuddered with convulsions. “He promised me untold magical power,” whispered the mage, “even though I was a grey mage.” He held up his right hand and examined his smoky ring with the three quarter circle etched into its face. “This ring was only a taste of that power.” He looked up at Sherman. “He fears you, Guardian; otherwise, he wouldn’t be trying to kill you.”

“Who wants to kill me?” asked Sherman. “Grakath?”

He never got an answer.

Randall’s face contorted in agony and then relaxed. He was dead.

“My father’s got a lot of explaining to do when I get back home,” muttered Sherman.

“Stand back, Sherman,” warned Frosty.

Sherman backed off. The ring on Randall’s hand began to smoke and the heat began to consume the mage’s finger, then his entire hand.

Sherman brought his sword down and severed the appendage before it could consume the whole body.

“No one’s body should be consumed that way,” declared Sherman with obvious revulsion. He was not the only one repulsed by the scene. Kazin and the others who were gathered averted their gazes.

“Look what I’ve found,” said Harran from some distance away. He held a young mage by the collar.

“He’s just a boy!” exclaimed Milena.

“What’s your name?” asked Kazin.

“Jarvis. Jarvis C-Cloud,” said the boy.

Kazin and Milena exchanged glances.

“What are you doing here?” asked Harran.

“I was going to join the new academy,” said Jarvis. “Now I’m not so sure.” He glanced at his ring.

“What’s that you’ve got there?” asked Kazin.

“M-my ring,” said Jarvis. “It’s part of my invitation to becoming a member of the academy.”

“What academy?” asked Milena. “Where is it?”

“I don’t know,” said the boy, crestfallen. “The mages told me they’d take me there after I had delivered a book to them.”

“The book!” exclaimed Sherman suddenly. “I almost forgot!” He ran over to the campfire and scraped out the remains of the Book of Prophesy. There was nothing but a pile of ash. “Sorry, Kazin,” said Sherman sadly. “It’s ruined.”

“Oh, well,” said Kazin. “We’ll worry about that later.” He turned to the boy. “Do you still want to join the academy, Jarvis?”

The boy shook his head and looked furtively at Randall’s magically consumed hand. “No.”

“Then give us the ring,” said Kazin.

“And return to the Tower of the Sky and don’t let strangers take you away from your studies,” admonished Milena.

The boy nearly ripped off his finger in his haste to rid himself of the smoky ring. Then he ran as fast as he could to the safety of the Tower of the Stars.

“Will he be all right alone in the woods like that?” asked Harran.

“He got up here without difficulty,” said Frosty. “He’ll make it back down just as easily. It’ll give him a chance to think about the near fatal mistake he almost made.”

A moan behind them diverted their attention.

“He’s awake,” said Milena with a sigh of relief. “That means my healing came in time.”

Everyone hurried over to the injured sailor.

“How much farther?” asked Kazin when the companions were underway again. The sun was edging westward as the mage paused on top of a giant grey boulder. The trees were scarce now and the wind had free reign at these heights. The going was difficult even for the mountain goat. The ledge they were presently on was easily large enough to accommodate the entire group.

“I sense we are within a few hours from the approximate spot Perenia had pointed out to us,” said Frosty. “It would be wise to wait until dark. The darkness will hide our approach.”

“What do we plan to do when we get there?” asked Rubin. He was in amazingly good shape despite his chest and head injuries. One cheek was swollen, and the eye on that side of his face was bloodshot as a result of that bruise. A large bandage was wrapped around his torso to prevent infection from setting in. Other than that his spirit and energy was unaffected. He joked often during their climb about his chest injury. “It looks like a smile,” he would jibe.

Kazin thought it was probably the healing magic of Milena’s that gave him the energy, remembering his own experience of a few days ago.

“We’ll decide what to do when we get there,” said Frosty in response to the energetic sailor’s question.

“Should we send someone up to investigate?” asked Zylor. He was also vigorous during the climb. The earlier battle seemed to give him an almost jovial attitude.

“We might have guards to contend with,” said Harran as he climbed onto the ledge with the others.

“Or magic,” added Milena.

“Good point,” said Kazin. “Frosty, do you think we should do the nullify spell again when we get there?”

“It’s hard to say,” said Frosty. He looked up at the heights above his goat-like head. “When it’s dark, I’ll investigate the area and see who’s there and what sort of defences they have in place.”

“This time I’ll come with you,” said Kazin.

“I’ll go too,” offered Sherman, but it was clear from his expression that he really didn’t relish the idea.

“No,” said Kazin. “This is a reconnaissance mission only. You can wait here until we get back. Your mountain climbing skill isn’t that good, and any excess noise could alert any guards that may be up there. You had a hard battle today. You could use a break tonight.”

“You might need a bodyguard,” objected the warrior.

“I’ll go,” said Della, rising to her feet. “I am skilled in stealth, and my arrows can hold at bay any resistance we may encounter.”

Sherman was about to object but Milena placed a hand on his shoulder. “Della’s right. She is better suited for this task.” She looked at the elf. “I’m sure Kazin will be in good hands.”

Della blushed and Kazin turned his attention away from the discussion. Was he that obvious? He preferred not to think about it.

The companions did what they could to conceal their location from above, using whatever vegetation was available. Milena offered to cast some magic to shield them from any prying eyes. Just before doing so, she animated some nearby trees and had them take root where they could shelter the companions for maximum effect.

Kazin pulled Sherman aside and asked him some questions concerning Randall.

“It looks like your hunches were right about Randall,” said Kazin.

“You said it,” said the big warrior.

“Why did he destroy the Book of Prophesy, Sherman? Why did he have it taken from the tower in the first place? Did he tell you?”

“As a matter of fact, he did,” said Sherman. “You see, it was me he was really after. The mages were only hired to deal with you and Milena. He wanted me for himself. He used the book to lure you here, knowing that I would be with you.”

“How did he know about the Book of Prophesy?” asked Kazin. “I certainly didn’t mention it to him.”

“One of his men had heard you mention that you were after the book, so he reasoned that you would investigate whoever borrowed it,” said Sherman. “He knew it would lead you to him.”

“But why destroy the book?” asked Kazin.

“I think it was because he wanted me to lose my temper and give him the upper hand. He had no real interest in the book, Kazin.”

Kazin nodded in understanding. “That makes sense. But why lure us way up into the mountains?”

“It was where he was able to hire the mages and mercenaries for the confrontation. He just didn’t expect our surprise attack and a unicorn’s negation spell.”

“He used his sword well,” commented Kazin. “If he was a sword fighter, he must not have been an experienced mage. His ring was probably his only source of magic. If he had any natural ability, it couldn’t have been anything more than grey magic. Either that or he was a failed black mage.”

“I wouldn’t know anything about that,” said Sherman. “What I do know is I’ve got to go home and ask my father what’s going on. Randall hinted that my dad was holding some information back from me. I aim to find out what that is. Maybe he’ll know who this Grakath character is and what he wants with me.”

“He sounds like a dangerous person,” said Kazin. “I’d advise caution when dealing with him.”

“I agree,” said Sherman. Suddenly he looked around furtively and, satisfied that no one was close enough to hear, pulled an object out of his pocket. “I was almost going to mention this earlier,” whispered the warrior, “but I—well—wanted to avoid going up the mountain after dark. You may have need of it tonight.” He handed Kazin the invisibility ring.

Kazin nodded thoughtfully. “Good idea, Sherman. If I’m spotted, I can slip the ring on and disappear.” He slipped the ring into his pocket.

“In hindsight,” added Sherman, “I should have given someone, perhaps Della, the ring during our last skirmish. She could have taken out more of the enemy without fear for her own safety. Clumsy oaf that I am, I forgot about the artifact completely.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Sherm. None of us are perfect. Besides, we won, didn’t we?”

Just then Kazin heard some giggling. Milena and Della sat not far away, and they were looking in Kazin’s direction.

“What’s with them?” asked Sherman.

“Don’t ask me,” said Kazin. He shifted uncomfortably in the gaze of the women.

“You like the elf, don’t you?” asked Sherman.

“Am I that obvious?” asked Kazin.

Sherman nodded and grinned.

“It’s not going to work out, you know,” said Kazin. “Elves live too long.”

“Sometimes you have to live for the moment,” said Sherman. “We can all die before our time. Think of those mages and mercenaries we killed today. They didn’t live out a full life either.”

“It won’t work,” insisted Kazin. “What if we don’t die until it’s time? The elf will still look like a young, vibrant elf while I’ll look old and wrinkled. How could she live with me in that condition? It just wouldn’t work.”

“Just let things develop as they will,” said Sherman. “You never know what can happen. Sometimes we are afraid of facing something and we ignore it. Then we regret not making the choices we should have made because it will be too late.”

“I don’t know,” said Kazin uncertainly. He looked at the elf and saw her staring back at him. Milena was gone. “I’ll think about it.” He shifted again and moved to straighten out his robe. He felt something bunched in one of his pockets and reached in to see what it was. It was a note.