The Last Wizard of Eneri Clare (83 page)

The seventh dragon came into the link, and Tvrdik began to cry. It was abrupt, and heart-wrenching. Jorelial Rey, who had been sitting very close, observing every detail, and trying to hold her tongue as the experiment proceeded, could do so no longer.

“Tvrdik, what’s the matter? Are you in pain?” she shouted out in alarm.

He didn’t actually acknowledge her question, but gave an answer nevertheless.

“It’s all so very beautiful. So wise and beautiful, I can’t bear it. There is light everywhere, and color everywhere, and music everywhere, and all in such perfect order. Everything sings and dances and makes sense. Even the smallest of the small – the gnat, even – is down there working out his assigned purpose. It is too much to conceive, too pure, too beautiful…” He continued to weep.

The Lady Rey’s eyebrows furrowed as she shouted to Danoral, “I don’t know how much more of this he can take. We’re only just past halfway. Do we need all of them?”

Danoral shouted back to her, “I think so, to be safe. I have a vague target here – the beginnings of a window, but I’ll need more. It would not do if I was to be trapped over there on the other side, or worse, somewhere else.”

The eighth dragon linked in, and Tvrdik cried out, “Master, where are you?” But, he had stopped sobbing.

Jorelial Rey asked, “Perhaps we should speed the process up a bit and be done with it, then…?”

Danoral answered, “They’re trying to give him time to adjust to each layer. They are being cautious.”

“Well, they might be adjusting him clean out of his wits!”

“Don’t panic, lady. So far, all of this is quite in line with what we would expect. His mind is just being stretched a little.”

“Dragons,” thought Jorelial Rey, with an edge of annoyance, and a flash of pain in her own head, like a pinch, told her that Tashroth’s connection with
her
was still very much functioning, despite his being otherwise occupied. She sat back down in her chair, pressed her lips together, watched, and waited. The ninth dragon linked.

“Master, where are you? Are you still there?”

“I’m right here, lad. Can you see me? Yes? Good. Now, focus. Concentrate. Look into my eyes. Use that staff of yours to ground yourself. It’s only the two of us here, sitting and talking. Just two old friends. Tell me about all the improvements you’ve made to my old Cottage. I want to hear all about it.”

“Oh, it’s lovely. We didn’t change much at all. Well, except the school….there isn’t a school anymore, so the Praegers re-invented that whole space for their family to live in. They have the most delightful little girl, Lynette. Lynette is her name. And Mr. Praeger has the front garden in tip-top form. He loves to work in the dirt. He has all the medicinal plants growing apart from the food plants and the flowers…” There was a pause, and his mood seemed to change again, “But all of them are gone now, aren’t they. All of them were dead and ashes years and years ago. Gone and blown away. Lynette, and the Praegers, and Stewart, and the flowers, and The Cottage…all gone.” Tvrdik’s grip on the oaken staff loosened, and it fell to the ground with a muffled thud, narrowly missing Jorelial Rey’s head on the way down. She and Mark, who was holding Tvridk’s arm on that side, glanced over to where it lay, but no one dared move to retrieve it. Meanwhile, Xaarus was diligently trying to recapture the young mage’s attention.

“No, no, Tvrdik. Hang onto me, but don’t come to me here. Don’t try to follow me. It’s all right. Stay where you are, and I will come to you, yes?”

“He’s getting clearer,” Danoral shouted.

Xaarus must have heard that, as his next words were, “It can’t be soon enough for me. This blasted boat is pitching up and down in the most nauseating fashion, and there are beginning to be people up and about.”

“Master, what is it like there? Shall I come and visit with you now?” He sounded positively childlike. Delphine and Mark were gripping his arms now with all their might, trying to keep him in the chair. His entire body was shaking now as if it were full of pressurized steam that must be vented somehow or explode. Warlowe and Andrus ran up to help and hold him in the chair. Andrus tried to take his pulse, but could not get him to hold his arm still.

“No, Tvrdik, stay where you are. Don’t come here. I’m coming to you. Focus on the sound of my voice in your mind. It’s all there is now. Just my voice. Let everything else go.”

The tenth dragon came on board. Tvrdik stood up, with little effort, and a sense of purpose, despite four strong pairs of hands trying to hold him down. Jorelial Rey sprang up and stepped forward, reaching up to take his face in both of her hands, and smoothing his hair back from a perspiration-drenched brow. His eyes stared through her, seemed frightened.

“Master, I was wrong. It is too difficult to hold it all. I have failed you. I am so sorry. I am spreading myself out on the wind…I am losing myself. I have no name. I am a part of all that is, but I don’t know who I am. I-I’ve forgotten my name…”

“Tvrdik! It’s Tvrdik.” Jorelial Rey shouted at him, knowing he could not hear her.

“You are Tvrdik, dear boy, and you are one with all that is, but you are still you. Hang on just a little longer, I think we are almost there…”

The eleventh and last dragon joined the group lending its powerful concentration to locating Xaarus through Tvrdik’s stretched, bedazzled mind, and opening a doorway in the shifting planes of time for Danoral to travel through.

“No. No. It’s too much. I don’t think I can hang on any longer. There is nothing left of me. I am tired of struggling. So tired. I think I’ll just drift away now…” his voice sounded colorless and empty as the trembling ceased, and all the muscles of his body went limp at once. His friends caught the dead weight, and eased him back into the chair, scrambling for cushions.

“Don’t go yet, Tvrdik,” Xaarus coached, his tone firm. “Just hold onto the sound of my voice a little longer, do you hear me? I am your master, and I
order
you to hang onto the sound of my voice…” The eyelids closed, but flickered, revealing the whites behind them.

“Got him!” Danoral cried. “I have a clear fix; I’m going in.” And the purple dragon launched himself from the beach, up into the space of air above the lake, circled once, silhouetted against the golden disc of the rising sun, and – vanished.

No one else was at the rail. Most of the early, savvy travelers were within the ferry’s warm cabin, dozing on benches, or enjoying a hot cup of coffee. The woman, and her companion, George, were enjoying the fresh air and early sunshine. She sighed, gazing out at a lone, small vessel containing a single vague figure, tossing on the waters in the distance. As the two friends stood watching, a huge purple dragon appeared without warning in the sky over the little boat, back-winging to hold himself suspended there. The old man they had wondered about stood, with some difficulty, in the dinghy, stretched his arms straight upward toward the dragon, and waited while the beast dropped low enough for his front talons to be in reach. The man grabbed one of the dragon’s claws with both hands, and the great purple beast lifted him clear up out of the boat, circled once, and appeared to vanish into thin air, dangling passenger and all. The little boat bobbed, aimless and lonely, on the gentle waves.

The woman and George stared wide-eyed, not daring to move or speak until well after the odd spectacle had ended. At last, she cleared her throat, “Well, I’ll be! You – you saw that, didn’t you? I’m not hallucinating?”

“I saw it. Pretty amazing.”

“Wow! It really pays to get up out of bed early now and then. What a treat that was.”

“Too bad nobody else was looking. They’ll never believe us.”

“We’ll know what we saw, George. You and I. I’ll bet we’ll still be telling this story years from now. You know, I’ve never seen a dragon before – that was one, wasn’t it?”

“I’ve never seen one either, but I think so, yes.”

“It’s pretty rare to catch them all the way down here…I’d always heard they holed up in the mountains, or places where there are still some big tracts of old forest.”

“Yes, but I seem to recall some news reports that there have been more and more sightings this year all over the place. Seems they are enjoying some sort of resurgence of late.”

“Well, whatever the reason, it’s our lucky day. You don’t run into things like that all the time. Wonder who that old guy was? You don’t think the dragon was going to eat him, or anything like that…?”

“Naw…seems almost like he was waiting for it. Bizarre, is what it is. Maybe there will be something on the news about it. Publicity stunt or some such, maybe for a new movie?”

“Sounds right. I’ll be sure and check.”

“I wonder how they do that popping in and out thing? It’s very cool. I’d like to be able to do that.”

“Well, anyway, that was very exciting, but now I am getting cold, and I think I would like a cup of coffee after all. Want me to see if the snack bar has any of those excellent milk bone things you liked?”

“That sounds perfect. I am feeling a bit peckish.”

And the woman gathered George, her Pomeranian companion, into her arms and turned away from the railing toward the staircase into the ship’s warm cabin, reflecting on the special bit of magic that had begun her day. The empty dinghy drifted further away, unnoticed by most.

Jorelial Rey leaned this way and that to get a better view. She was struggling with Tvrdik, and trying to see around Tashroth’s great bulk. But, no. Danoral was nowhere to be seen. Her heart sank…had it all been for naught? A moment later, there was a small disturbance in the sky, like radiant heat waves that distort the air. Then, an odd, spiral-shaped cloud appeared that expanded before her eyes. With a flash of light, from out of its center sprang the dragon-transporter himself. And dangling from his front talons was another figure, a man. They had done it!

Andrus was signaling that Tvrdik’s heart was racing and erratic, and his eyelids were still fluttering. The dragons, fearing for his life, let go of the time corridor they had built, and began to disengage, one by one, at a much faster pace than they had intended. After the third dragon had pulled out of the collective consciousness, the young mage’s eyes flew open in terror, and he let out a howl that startled Mark, Delphine, and Jorelial Rey several paces backward.

“Nooooo! Please, no. I can’t go back there. Please don’t leave me. Please, please, I’ll do anything. Don’t make me squeeze back into that small, pitiful body and that puny mind again. I can’t…I can’t go back there.” He was thrashing about, and wailing in agony, genuine fear on his face, and tears rolling down his cheeks. With each dragon’s exit, subtle as they tried to be, he winced, and begged them not to make him shrink down any further. He grabbed his head in his hands and howled again with an almost inhuman sound. Once more the coin bearing Xaarus’ image fell into the dust. And Tvrdik stood up again, grasping his own head as if it would fall off. Not knowing what was happening, or what to do, Rel, Mark, Delphine, Warlowe and Andrus had all taken another step backward in helpless shock. Rel clapped her hands to her mouth, and found herself biting the skin of her palm, tears of concern and frustration welling up in her own eyes.

At that moment, another tall figure strode through the little group of onlookers, and with a gentle, but firm gesture, pushed them all aside. With confidence and presence, he grasped the young mage’s arms and lowered them to his sides. Then, with a father’s care, he wrapped the young man in a bear hug, guiding Tvrdik’s head onto his shoulder, and speaking to him in a soothing voice.

“There, there, Tvrdik, it’s all right now. It’s over. Let them go. You can do this yourself. You are sufficient. You are remarkable. Come back to us, son. Come back to yourself where you belong. Everything is going to be all right. Better than all right. You’ll see.”

Between encouragements, the stranger seemed to be interjecting words in some unknown foreign tongue, and where he stroked Tvrdik’s pale, damp hair, the others swore they could see light radiating from his hand. Or perhaps it was a trick of the sunrise.

As the last few dragons, then Candelinda, and finally Tashroth, stepped back, folded their wings, and nodded to Jorelial Rey, signifying that they had disengaged from Tvrdik’s mind, the young man seemed to grow calmer in his comforter’s arms. No one else stirred, or dared to make a sound. Tashroth had broken the last of the link, but the pair in the center of the circle seemed to be swaying in their embrace for an eternity longer. At last, the stranger’s arms loosened, and he held Tvrdik at arm’s length and regarded him with a heart-warming smile. Tvrdik, drained, but himself again, looked back at the hooked nose, the twinkling eyes, the great bush of snow white hair…