The Weaving of Wells (Osric's Wand, Book Four) (7 page)

“It began with a sea journey, by ship, but the crew could not see or hear me. The land where the ship docked was lush and green, and I followed an old stone road, half buried in moss and underbrush, deep into a forest. I walked uphill for most of the day, and at the peak I realized I was on an island. There was water on all sides, and the mountain I had climbed was at the very center of the landmass. The only structure I saw was a tower at the peak of the mountain. It sat in a small lake nestled in a crater, and it almost felt as if no other lands existed but the one small island. There was no door to the tower. When I approached the tower by way of a rickety bridge, a glowing entrance appeared and I was able to go inside by crawling through. Inside was a stone basin in the floor, about three strides in width and half that in depth.” Serha spoke calmly but her voice conveyed her excitement and awe as she remembered how invigorating it had felt to stand near that circle of stone. “When I peered into the basin, a dark shadow crept across the floor and I felt as if I were suffocating. The closer it came to me the harder it was to breathe.

“Just before I would have fallen unconscious, a strong wind blew through the tower and knocked a book to the floor. As the pages of the book fluttered in the wind, the shadow retreated from me and went into the bowl on the floor. Once inside, the darkness seemed unable to exit the circular area, but it grew much darker as it pooled in such a small space. The book looked similar to this one, but it had distinctively different markings on the front.

“I knelt and looked closely at the shadow. Up very close, it looked like a massive army in marching formations. When I touched the book, it was obvious that my hand was not of my own body, but rather I was seeing everything through someone else’s eyes. When my hand made contact with the page, a bright light washed across the floor and the army of shadows dissolved.” Serha fell silent as she completed her tale, and she looked up to find genuine fascination and concern in the eyes of her companions.

“I agree with you that you did not see the Well of Strands.” Eublin pushed his spectacles up his nose and scratched his head as he spoke. “From what Bridgett has described, it doesn’t fit with what we know. However, we have been researching other areas of concentrated power. Smaller, less powerful regions. If we can identify enough of the elements of your vision, perhaps we can pinpoint the location of the well you saw.”

“The area you described does not sound like one of the locations we have identified from the journals and maps in Eublin’s collection. Tell me again what you saw before you entered the structure.” Aridis stared at the book’s well-worn binding as he listened to Serha speak.

“Lush greenery along an overgrown stone road leading to the highest point at the center of the island. The tower sat at the center of a small lake in a crater on the top of the mountain.”

“It sounds like one of the islands off the west coast of the Elven Realm. That might explain why it was an elven book that triggered the vision.” Aridis tugged on his beard and then looked up at Osric. “What do you think?”

“I think we have a trip to pack for. If the vision is correct—and we have every reason to believe it is, after all that has happened—we need to find the other wells before Dredek does.”

“What do you think it means?” Serha looked at the other three people in the room with a serious expression, asking for their interpretation even as she formed her own.

“I would say it means our only chance of defeating Dredek’s army is in using the Well of Strands against him, but the smaller wells may be our key to understanding how to accomplish that.” Osric was already making a mental list of who he would need with him on the search for the well Serha had seen.

“Perhaps it can tell us more than that. It is interesting that it looked like an army, but I believe the darkness and the book are more important messages,” Aridis said, watching him carefully and surprised that Osric seemed so healthy after his battle with Dredek in Angmar that had left the Aranthian leader unconscious for over a month. “Serha, do your visions usually seem so cryptic? Is this an actual event or more of a symbolic representation, in your opinion?”

“I have visions of both types, actually. Usually it is quite easy for me to tell the difference, but this vision was not so transparent. I believe it may be a combination of both. It would help if I knew whose eyes I was watching the event through, but even without that knowledge I can make some assumptions.” She folded her hands in her lap and thought back to the vision carefully. “I feel that the man—at least, I am fairly sure it was a human male—was on the ship and traveled the road to the tower. The doorway I am less sure about. The glowing light could be symbolic for the enlightenment or knowledge of the entrance’s location. Or perhaps the knowledge of how to gain entrance without a door, I do not really know. The well and the book exist, of that I am certain, though I cannot assume the book is still in the tower. As far as the shadow goes, I won’t even attempt to determine its nature. It is as if the darkness hides itself from me even in my vision and my memory of it.”

“You speak of the vision as an event that occurred in the past. Do you have a way of knowing this to be true?” Eublin asked, leaning forward in his seat excitedly. “Is it possible that this event has not yet taken place?”

“To be honest, I do not know. If I speak in past tense, it is likely only because the vision showed me something that I am now remembering as something I experienced. It is possible that I am seeing something as it will be, but that would make it even less possible to determine which elements are actual and which are symbolic.” Serha stared down at her folded hands. “I am not sounding much like the master of my craft that I am supposed to be, am I?”

“Nonsense.” Aridis did not hesitate to assuage her self-doubt. “We are all encountering magic and events that have no precedent in our knowledge or experience. You are doing better than any other Seer could under the circumstances. Doubting your ability to aid our world in its time of need will only keep you from doing so. Speak nothing of the sort again.” Although his words were directed at the old woman, Aridis was holding Osric’s gaze as he spoke.

“Wise words.” Eublin clapped loudly once and hopped down from his chair. “If it is a trip we must be embarking on, we should certainly be preparing. I will gather all of my research on the wells and join you shortly.” The others rose from their seats and went their separate ways with quiet determination.

* * *

The group met up again at mid’day in greater numbers. While Eublin and Aridis gathered their research and Serha prepared for the unexpected journey, Osric was briefed by Gus on the day’s gruesome yet enlightening discovery about his acquired powers. He couldn’t believe that Willam was dead, and he felt that it was his fault. He should have taken the sword with him. He should have realized the potential danger that was involved with the unusual power of the wand. Gus had described what had happened, in an uncharacteristically shaky voice, and Osric couldn’t even imagine what it must have been like to see what had occurred. Gus’s Wand-Maker’s vision had been engaged as Willam cut Kal with the sword. The poor kid had been inundated with all of the fully formed gifts that Osric currently possessed, and it seemed the power influx of so many gifts was too much for the body to handle. The surge of power had been too much for Willam’s life strand to handle, and it snapped right before Gus’s eyes.

Though Osric grieved for the boy, his mind was overwhelmed by the implications of what Gus had seen. They had spent months trying to figure out how Osric was gaining so many new powers. It was obvious now that they had come from the sword, but there was more to it than that. Most of his gifts had developed gradually, although some had seemed to appear instantly or at least very rapidly between the occasions that Gus had examined him. If contact with blood had caused the gifts to transfer to him fully formed, then that would explain why he had gained the paun’s ability of invisibility and the gift that allowed him to see the spoken spells in the book that had previously looked blank. Thinking about the vial, Osric still wondered how he had attained the ability to read the book. The only solution that came from all his thoughts was that the vial had to have contained blood, dried by the years, and the sword had been exposed to the blood when he had gone into the water to retrieve the vial. He wasn’t positive, but it made sense. Then there were the various other gifts he had acquired after fighting with the sword; he had so many and the thought filled him with regret, gaining power with each life he took.

The others gifts must have been more gradual because they were gained by proximity to the sword rather than by blood contacting the blade. Kenneth’s use of his sword during practice would explain how he had gained the gifts as well, though he wasn’t sure how to explain Gus and Bridgett gaining the abilities as well. Perhaps being near the sword was enough to develop the abilities over time—Gus confirmed the theory as the story had progressed.

Osric secured his sword belt on his waist with trembling hands. The elation he had felt earlier in the day when he realized that his sword was actually the wand that had tormented him through the riddle of prophecy had given way to a heavy weight on his heart. Legati had been more than a sword to him all along, but understanding how his new gifts had been acquired did little to ease the demanding questions of why. There must be a reason why the unicorn had saved him that day as the palace collapsed, why he wasn’t killed along with most of the other Ratification Ceremony attendees. If it was the sword, or the wand, that had given him all of his abilities, then why was he the one with the burden of gaining them? Could he ever use his abilities without feeling the guilt of taking the lives of so many whom he had gained them from? Although he had acquired several of his gifts over time from the people around him without any harm coming to them, far more of his abilities had developed after the battles at Braya and Angmar, and after the fight with the Kallegian in Stanton. So many of his gifts were a bloody reminder of the fighting he had been forced to participate in since he was thrust into the battle for peace on Archana, and he wasn’t sure he would be able to use Legati again without feeling the weight of that guilt.

Osric’s heart was pounding as all of the questions raced through his mind. He could still hear the echo of Aridis’s words to Serha about self-doubt preventing their success, but he couldn’t shake his own doubts. He wasn’t sure he would be able to do what it would take to wage a war, never mind win one. He tried to think about what had to be done to locate the wells and learn what they could from them, but it took all of his strength to turn and address the gathered group who looked to him for leadership. What right did he have to speak to them, to try to motivate them, to lead them?

The weight of his sword against his leg felt both familiar and eerie, yet he couldn’t imagine being without it. It may be a burden to carry, but it was his burden. He would find a way to shoulder it—he couldn’t bear the thought of letting his people down after they had come so far with him. Osric straightened himself and tried to calm his thoughts—guilt was never an honest emotion. He looked out over the small crowd at his companions, his friends, and he set his mind on the next goal. They would take it one step at a time, just as they had all along, and eventually they would find the answers they so desperately needed. First, they had an island to find.

* * *

The greenery was just as lush and bright as it had been in her vision. The small bay where the boat had anchored was just as blue. Aside from her sight being distinctly her own, rather than viewing the beautiful island through the eyes of a stranger, Serha could be back in her vision. But she wasn’t; she was on an unfamiliar coast far from home with a great many people depending on her. Serha had specifically described the location from her vision to a dragon, who then transported them all to the shore by spoken spell. Dragons, thanks to the Endurism ability, were one of the few creatures on Archana who could tolerate the vast use of magic needed to travel so far with the spell, but they weren’t entirely sure they could make the image of the location specific enough to accomplish traveling there at all. The shape of the shoreline and the landscape near the water was unique enough that the dragon had felt confident it was an island she had seen before, and luckily they had all arrived safely. Now that they knew the island of her vision was real, Serha knew that it was her responsibility to lead them to the tower.

Serha’s entire life had been devoted to receiving and understanding her visions and delivering prophecies. She had never had any doubt about her competency with her gift, but she honestly thought that finding Osric was going to be the last thing she did in her life. The vision she had received as a young girl, the one that had shown her finding the High-Wizard, was her first and still one of her most vivid visions as a Seer. At the time, she had been overwhelmed by the feeling that it had depicted the last days of her life, and she had waited for the moment to come with grim acceptance. She had always known that she would find Osric, but she had first needed to accept that it would be one of the last things she did before she died. Now she had seen that vision come to pass, yet she was continuing on to new lands with new purpose. For the first time in her life, she felt her gift had failed her. What she had experienced, what she had felt when she had her first vision as a child, had been wrong, and now her hands were shaking as she stared up at the dense forest before her. What if there was no tower at the top of the mountain? No well, no book? What if she was wrong about all of it?

“Any idea where that road was at?” Osric’s voice broke into her thoughts.

Serha scanned the edge of the jungle, looking for something familiar. It didn’t take her long to find the old, weathered, and cracked stones that had once been a road. Serha moved toward the old path with a stride more confident than she felt. She tried to push down her fears of failure by focusing on the many aspects of the island that were in fact the same as her vision. As she crossed beneath the first of the trees, a small bush dappled with bright blue blossoms peeked out beside the moss-encrusted tree trunk on her right. She smelled the heady sweetness that wafted toward her from the small flowers as her skirt brushed the leaves of the bush.