Sword Bearer (Return of the Dragons) (8 page)

“And you say this wizard, as well as the dark lord, are
hunting for this book, as we speak?” Woltan asked.

Kara bit her lip. “I’m afraid so. They inhabit my dreams; I
feel them pushing at me the moment I close my eyes. The book feels warm with
their dark magic. I’m afraid they have put some kind of spell on it.”

“No one could have put a deep and penetrating spell on such
a great book as the one you guard. And yet, I fear they may have done some
lesser magic to it, which will help lead them to you.”

Kara looked stricken. “And to you as well. Oh, Woltan, I’m
so sorry.”

Woltan nodded. “I think it’s no accident that those keiler
discovered you so easily. We must examine the book.”

Kara shook her head again.

“Not without the approval of my people.”

Woltan’s face turned red. They seemed to have reached an
impasse. For all his amazing calm, Woltan must be under a great deal of strain,
in charge of protecting his hidden city from invaders. Invaders that we had
brought with us.

Kara broke the silence. “We’ll contact them today. We need
to get in touch, in any case. My father will be so excited to make contact with
your people, Woltan. He sent Kalle here to try to find you.”

Kalle nodded. “I had been searching for two weeks without
finding so much as a trace.”

Woltan turned back, a thin smile now on his still red face.
“How did you find us, anyhow?”

Kalle shrugged. “We were fleeing the keiler that we knew
were gathering. We came to a clearing and there was the gate.”

Woltan shook his head. “It all seems too easy, somehow.”

I was afraid I knew what Woltan was implying. I hoped I’d
misunderstood, or he was just plain wrong.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Kara stealing the book,” Woltan said. “Her escaping to you.
You escaping to us, and leading the keiler to us. And now the Dark Lord knows
the location of the book, and of our city. I wonder if this is all in his
plans.”

Kara frowned. “This is the prophecy, too, remember, Woltan.
The prophecy is greater than the Dark Lord.”

Woltan shook his head. “Perhaps he shapes the way the
prophecy will unfold, and we unwillingly, unwittingly aid him.”

“I thought no one could change the prophecy.”

Woltan sighed. “All prophecies are vague on the details. And
the details are very important sometimes. But perhaps all this is nonsense, if
the Dark Lord doesn’t even know the full text of the prophecy.”

“Isn’t this prophecy in the book of Id?” I said. “And if
it’s there, won’t the Dark Lord know the prophecy as well as any of us here?”

Kara shook her head. “He didn’t have it in his own hands.
Gerard had it, for a day, at most. Not anyone can read it. You must be
initiated to even know how to open it, and it’s all written in a language that only
a few of us can read. And even if you can read it, only a few of those who read
it can truly understand it.”

“What if he made a copy?” I asked.

Woltan laughed. “I’m almost sure a book such as the book of
Id can’t be copied. Right, Kara?”

She nodded. “The magic is too powerful. It would destroy
anyone who tried to copy it.”

I looked at the two of them. “Even a wizard like Gerard?”

Woltan sighed. “Unless the essential order of the world has
changed — and if it had, I think we would all feel it, even the non-wizards —
then even a wizard like the Dark Lord would be destroyed, or at least hurt if
he tried to copy the book.”

“But couldn’t one of them have put a spell on the book?” I
said. “On the outside of it, like you said?”

Woltan frowned deeply. “I’m afraid that’s exactly what they
did. What kind of spell though, I can’t tell you without examining the book,
and it appears that I can’t examine the book, at all.” He looked meaningfully
at Kara.

Kara’s face had turned scarlet red. “I will go now with
Kalle back to my room, and we will try to contact our people. You are right,
there is no time to waste. I didn’t think of the possibility that the book had
been ensorcelled by Gerard. I have breeched not only the security of my people
but of yours as well. I ask your forgiveness and your leave, Woltan. We will be
back here in an hour or two’s time.”

Woltan shook hands with Kara and Kalle in turn. “Go in peace
and talk to your people. You two have brought us the three blooded prince. Do
not be so hard on yourself. But do talk to your uncle and seek his counsel. I
fear what may happen if too much time passes without action.”

Kara nodded, and walked out, Kalle following right behind
her.

I was left alone with Woltan.

Woltan took a deep breath, and let it out. The redness in
his face seemed to drain out with his breath. “Are you ready to begin?”

I nodded.

“Then I’ll take you to the training room, next to our school
library.”

“You have a school here?”

I realized I must have made a face, because Woltan laughed.

“You don’t like school, do you, Anders?”

I shrugged. “I haven’t been able to go to school since I was
little. I’ve just had tutors. In general it’s been a lot of pointless work and
almost nothing practical. Most of the real magic I learned from my grandfather,
before he died, and from my great grandfather.”

“Rest assured that here all magic is real magic. Whether
it’s practical or not depends on the wizard or witch who uses it. For example,
I can say a word like
heiss
to melt something, to warm something up, to
burn the ground, to heat some water.”

“To warm up on a cold night.”

Woltan smiled. “To melt the ice around a frozen door.”

“To cook food without a fire.”

Woltan nodded. “What you do with a word, how you focus the
energy of its magic, is up to the wizard. With just the word we described, a
great wizard could heat up a whole city or could melt a great block of ice.”

“He could kill someone.”

I knew as soon as I’d said it, that I’d said the wrong
thing, even if it was true.

Woltan frowned. “This is not a strong word of magic, not a
word of combat, but yes, in the wrong, powerful hands, even a word as simple
and anodyne as this could kill.”

Woltan made everything seem so simple. Hadn’t I killed the
keiler with magic, in a way? And why had they called me
Herr
?

Woltan smiled at me. “You have doubts. Doubts are normal at
this stage, but they’re also a weakness, that can be exploited by your enemies.
At times you must be sure of what you do, to do it well. Self-doubt will
destroy your own magic and make your defenses worthless.”

“What if I am attacked? Is it wrong to use a spell to defend
myself? And if I kill something, using magic, to defend myself, does that make
me evil?”

Woltan suddenly looked much older. At first I had thought he
was young like me, then I had figured he was much older, just very short, and
now I didn’t know what to think.

Woltan sighed. “Killing in self-defense is acceptable, with
magic or without. But you must be very careful. When magic is employed to kill,
it warps your mind and your spirit, and you risk succumbing to the quest for
power that leads those to follow the Dark Lord. You would do better to trust in
your sword, whose blade, though magical, will keep your mind clear with its
bladesong.”

“How can the sword sing to me? I mean, it’s sung to me
already, even when it was just a magical wooden blade. But why? And how?”

“The magic in the sword you hold comes from a pixie, housed
in the pommel. Three thousand years ago, great wizards made pacts with the
pixies, promising them riches in Faerie if they would house themselves inside
the pommel of our swords, and sing their songs of battle through our blades. It
might seem boring to be imprisoned for several thousand years, but many of the
pixies have grown fond of their quarters. It helps that they still maintain a
foot among the Fair folk. They can be two places at once, you see.”

“Can we communicate with him? My pixie, I mean.”

“First, of all, Anders, it’s not
your
pixie. And
second of all, it’s a she. Most of the pixies are female, and most of the sword
wielders are male. There were only seven original blade pommels and seven
original blades three thousand years ago. Seven pixies who came into the
service of humankind. Later, lesser blades were made with younger fair folk.
But as to how many remain, no one knows. Perhaps the pixie in your sword knows,
but you’d have to ask her. No one except the sword wielder can communicate with
the pixie in his sword.”

“I just talk to my sword?”

“It’s simple, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy. Just like the
words of magic are simple, but using them is difficult, it’s also simple but
difficult to talk to the pixie in your sword. It will become easier with time,
or perhaps it will be easy for you from the beginning...”

Suddenly I burned with desire to speak, not sing to the
pixie in the sword. “How do I begin?”

“Do you really think this is the time, or the place?”

I looked around. I was thousands of leagues from my parents,
from my tutor, from everything I had known in my whole childhood. I’d become a
man, in some ways, and remained a boy in others. I’d met a girl, who stirred up
feelings I never knew existed. And now, Woltan was telling me I could talk to
the sword that lay at my side. For some reason this filled me with a feeling of
well-being.

I smiled, then shrugged.

“I doubt I will ever find a better teacher or more peaceful
place. I’ve lived by my instincts the last few days, and my instincts tell me
that this is right.”

Woltan smiled. “But your instincts didn’t tell you how to
talk to the pixie? If you follow your instincts, perhaps you should follow them
further.”

I looked at Woltan. Was this all some trick? Did Woltan
really believe that I could do this, without his help?

“I don’t have any idea how to begin.”

“I will give you two starting points. Close your eyes. And
put your hand upon your sword’s pommel.”

I did as told.

“Now open your inner eye, and your inner ear, if you can.”

I closed my eyes and tried to do what I’d done when the
sword had been forged, without covering my ears this time. The room was very quiet.
Maybe that helped. Because I felt quiet and attuned, right away.

I reached down and grabbed my sword.

Were there explosions of light and color?

Was there earsplitting song that blasted me to my very
nerve-endings?

Nothing of the sort.

There was only a voice, feminine and small, but somehow
strong, reassuring and vibrant at the same time. A small, strong voice, stating
my name, and a title:

Anders Tomason, the three-blooded prince.

I felt kind of encouraged.

But I still didn’t know how to say anything to her.

Just think what you want to say, Anders, but think it
thinking of me
…

Suddenly I saw a girl, around my age, winking at me. Her
hair was golden blonde, her eyes green, her smile full of white straight teeth.
What a beautiful girl. Wait, not a girl. Not a human girl, anyhow. There were
wings behind her shoulders. Pointed ears. Then she was laughing, and the image
was gone.

Yes, Anders, I’m a pixie, not a person.

I’m sorry.

Nothing to be sorry about. But I’m glad you’re talking to
me now, so I don’t have to pry into your thoughts. It’s a little strenuous, and
sometimes it gives me a headache, plus I figure you might find it a little
rude, if for example you were thinking about some other girl.

I saw a flash of a smile again, and then the image was gone.

Can I see you while I talk to you?

The images you saw were me, of course. We could look at
each other continuously, but it’s rather draining and neither of us has had
practice recently. It’s not really very practical most of the time either: you
risk getting killed while you’re looking at my beautiful face, or falling down,
or bumping into something
.

I smiled. Her face
was
beautiful.

Do you know anything about what I must do, now?

I caught a flash of a smile.

I know a great deal about you, Anders. I knew your
grandfather well, and his father, and so on. Your father I never got to know —
he never carried me again, after his sparring match with his blademaster.

What happened?

I can tell you it was complicated. But more than that I
can’t say. I don’t understand myself.

I will have to ask him.

You would do well to talk to him. You should know, too,
that my cousins in Faerie have been carried by many of your other ancestors —
by the merpeople and the Kriek. They send their greetings. They’re a little
jealous of me but proud too that one of their cousins would serve such a
prince. I can tell you many things, but I don’t know what would be useful for
you and what not.

Can you teach me magic?

I can, but magic is different for us, and pixie spells do
not always work the same, or at all, with humans. I can pull you in here with
me and hold you in my arms if you are hurt, but I might not want to let you go
then, and you might not want to be in Faerie, inside your own sword. For the
moment, I think you should try to find your own answers, and practice sparring
and sorcery with Woltan. The blade of the three-blooded prince is made for war,
but I will not let it hurt those who are your friends. At least not seriously.

There was another flash of a smile.

What is your name, then, so I can call you properly?

There was a pause and then I looked her right in the face.
Had I ever seen anyone so beautiful? Did it matter that her ears were pointed
and her eyes a strange tint of green that I had never seen before? She was the
most beautiful girl I had ever seen. If I hadn’t been confused about Kara, I
might have fallen in love, right then and there.