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Authors: Irene Radford

The Wizard's Treasure (The Dragon Nimbus) (51 page)

BOOK: The Wizard's Treasure (The Dragon Nimbus)
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“You were the greatest healer of your time,” Jack added. “And you could not heal yourself because you never had the opportunity to confront your father. I thank the Stargods that the dragons gave my father the opportunity to continue his destiny as a dragon so that I could confront him and find myself in my heritage. We give you the same chance.”
“For all of our sakes, acknowledge Ackerly and guide him to his next existence,” Vareena concluded.
“I hate to interrupt this sentimental reunion, folks, but the door around Rejiia’s tower is smoking,” Lanciar hissed from the doorway. “She’ll be drawn to the magic swirling around us all like iron to lodestone.”
“I repeat, the man who sired me is not worth the trouble and danger you face when drawing me across time and distance.” Powwell turned away.
I refute your accusation!
Ackerly screamed. The cloud of dust approached the iron stairway.
I dedicated my life to making Nimbulan’s life easier, more organized. I fed him when he was too exhausted to think. I made sure all of his equipment was at hand while he waged battle on the enemies of Coronnan. I supported him all our lives and he betrayed me. As you, Powwell, and your sister Kalen betrayed me.
He stopped short at the bottom step.
Once before the iron in the stairway had repulsed him. He could approach no closer to his son.
Could Powwell cross the barrier iron placed between them? There were higher and thicker barriers to contend with first.
“You betrayed Nimbulan, the greatest magician of his age, perhaps of any age. You tried to kill him with an overdose of Tambootie, and then you usurped his position in the University. You sold the services of half-trained apprentices for gold. You manipulated and coerced the lords of the land for gold. You did nothing for others, only for your own selfish greed,” Powwell accused. He kept his back to his father.
The gold was to be your inheritance. I did not want either you or Kalen to be left destitute and dependent because of the wars.
Ackerly held out a hand to his son in entreaty.
“Then why did you secrete the gold here where no one could find it? Why didn’t you acknowledge your two bastards and at least give them names? You did nothing for us. Kalen died barely two years after you did. She was still a
child
. The victim of yet another who sought to use her talent for their own gain and without regard for her soul.”
I left clues. If only you had sought them. You were both children when I departed Coronnan. If I had left the gold in an obvious place, it would have been stolen from you. You might have been murdered for it.
Powwell turned back to face his father. He took two steps forward only to stop, or be stopped by the iron stairs.
Marcus sensed something important was going on. He needed to listen and learn, perhaps heal his own hurts by their example.
The scent of woodsmoke drew his attention to the doorway. Flames shot upward across the courtyard. The door to the lesser tower exploded outward.
Rejiia stalked through the fire, free of her bonds.
CHAPTER 44
 
 
 
 
J
ack watched as Rejiia, with a deceptively subtle gesture, knocked flat three determined Rover women armed with rolling pins. Black-and-red spikes of magic radiated from her aura. Everything that came in contact with those layers of energy was in danger.
How had she overcome the magical dissipation of the gloaming? Then he realized he could see her quite clearly. She had discarded the coin that trapped her between dimensions as soon as she broke the bonds he, Marcus, and Robb had wrapped around her.
And she reeked of Tambootie. The leaves of the tree of magic, which she probably kept about her person at all times, could temporarily enhance her powers. But once the effects of the drug wore off . . .
Three more women, Zolltarn’s head wife in the lead, jumped to attack the renegade witch with pots full of boiling water. Everything they threw at the determined woman bounced off her armor and back in the faces of her attackers.
The women cowered away from her, covering their eyes.
Around them, Rovers, nobles, and the others confronted the villagers with whatever weapons came to hand. Miranda stood on the observation platform of the northwest tower calling to Lord Andrall the activities of each attacker still outside the walls. The noise of that battle distracted Jack from the impending magical duel with his old enemy.
Rejiia’s eyes burned with her need for revenge. Flames nearly shot from her gaze. But her hands shook. With pent-up emotion or a side effect of the Tambootie?
Jack wanted to cower away from Rejiia and the memory of what she had done to him in the prison cell in Queen’s City. The last time he’d battled her, she’d been calm and controlled, almost mocking in her superiority.
But she’d fled in defeat when confronted by a united Commune.
The weasel statue of her father, Lord Krej, rocked on top of the bardo as she passed. The muzzle and ears had joined both front legs and the tail in becoming realistically furry. His mouth opened, and he drooled. More of the tin casing dropped away from his head. Not a trace of humanity touched his features.
Before Jack could think of a ploy to stop or delay Rejiia, the inner gate split and tumbled forward on top of the jumble of bardos. Hopefully, the maze of sledges and cabins, of milling steeds, squawking flusterhens, and bawling children would slow them down until Ackerly’s angry influence had been negated.
Where were the soldiers and Gnuls from the capital? How much time did they have? Amaranth didn’t know and didn’t care. He only wanted to hide his head under a wing and pretend all this chaos and noise would go away.
Jack sent him safely into the air to search.
He had no idea how the breach in the defenses of the monastery would affect the curse on the gold. Would it spread or dissipate? Maybe nothing at all would affect it but a true reversal of the curse. Whatever, they had to finish before the army with the Gnuls and witch-sniffers arrived.
His fellow magicians looked anxiously back and forth between the melee at the gate and Rejiia’s advancing menace.
Jack waved them over to the gate. “Take care of Katrina for me. I’ll be with you shortly,” he said. “Rejiia is mine.”
“And mine,” Lanciar added. He took up his position shoulder to shoulder with Jack. “We may have been enemies once, but in this we are allies.”
“We forged some interesting bonds on that frigid mountain pass . . . comrade,” Jack replied.
“Friend. And kin.”
Jack needed more time to forgive Lanciar. He nodded his acceptance that one day they might walk side by side as friends. One day. Not yet.
Together they faced their foe.
“Jack, Rejiia’s element seems to be fire,” Margit said, almost breathless.
Jack raised an eyebrow at her.
“I did some research on opposing elements for Jaylor. Air and Fire are linked. Water and Kardia oppose them. Use Water and Kardia. You can negate her magic without harming the others around her. Trust me.”
Across the courtyard the other magicians joined the Rovers and nobles in shoving obstacles in front of the invading villagers. Queen Miranda moved atop Zolltarn’s large bardo with Lord Andrall for more immediate observation and direction of the defenses.
Amaranth showed Jack images of the soldiers led by Vareena’s brother on the far side of the river. They were still almost a league from the ford. Without the professionals backing the locals and urging them to battle, Jack and his companions had a chance to end this without giving or receiving serious injury.
With the transport spell, he could then evacuate all of the magicians from the place and keep them safe from Gnul persecution. Zolltarn could tend to his own people quite nicely.
Rejiia raised her hands, fingers arched, fire at her command, murder in her eyes.
“Let’s see if your research works, Margit, because I don’t have any other ideas,” Jack muttered. He took a deep breath and began his spell. “Gather together, drop by drop, seek your like, find the path,” he chanted calling upon the element of Water to oppose Fire. “Gather to a trickle, spread to a stream, climb to a wave.”
All the water in the courtyard that had been flung at friend and enemy alike responded to his plea, willingly bonding with its own kind. It gathered in puddles that traveled quickly to join with other rivulets streaming from the well. Then the puddles piled on top of each other, fed by the deep underground spring, forming a wall of water traveling forward toward Jack.
“Air rush to fill the emptiness,” Lanciar chanted beside him. “Join with Water, swell the wave. Oppose each other in battle, aid the brave.”
The wave grew and spread wide. A strong wind pushed it higher yet. The two elements raged where they met, churning each other, adding pressure to the path they followed.
At the moment the wall of water reached Rejiia’s back, Jack and Lanciar both dropped their hands. “Water seek your complement. Ground in the Kardia taking Fire and Air with you,” they chanted together.
The wave crested over the witch. For a moment Rejiia was lost within the roaring water, pushed forward, off-balance. She thrashed about, spluttering for air.
Water retreated. Fire sought its opposite, ready to do battle, and fled her fingers to ground itself harmlessly in the Kardia.
“Aid me, Air, reignite my Fire,” Rejiia called, still spitting water from her mouth. She emerged sputtering from the rapidly dissipating Water, hair drenched and scraggling in thin and tangled tendrils. Her once elegant black-and-silver gown hung upon her body in ugly, misplaced lumps. Her skin looked pasty. The boost to her magic given by the Tambootie was wearing off.
Air ignored her, rushing onward.
“From North, South, East, and West and the lesser points between, I call upon the coven to come forth. Aide me, brethren. Defeat our enemies now and forever,” she called, turning a full but wobbling circle with her arms outstretched.
Again the magic fizzled as soon as it left her body.
“They aren’t coming, Rejiia,” Lanciar taunted her. “Your summons never left the compound.”
She raised a fist and shook it at him in anger. Some of her lumpy padding dislodged and settled near her waist.
Lanciar giggled slightly. “All those tempting curves were nothing more than cotton padding,” he said. A touch of magic projected his words to the farthest corners of the embattled courtyard.
More giggles rippled around the crowd, many of them from the throats of villagers. Much of the anger that had propelled them dissipated, much like the water retreating toward the well.
“You can’t do this to me!” Rejiia screamed. Frantically she pushed at the lumps in her clothing, only misplacing them more. Her hands trembled. A convulsive shudder vibrated her entire body. She looked as if her knees would no longer support her.
At that moment Jack realized that humiliation was the one weapon Rejiia could not fight—especially not with her magic drained and an exhausted body. She’d not restore herself soon without more Tambootie. He detected no more leaves in her possession.
“She couldn’t even bother enhancing her appearance with a magical glamour. She just used the common artifice available to any
mundane
woman,” Jack chortled.
“I’ll show you magic!” Rejiia raised her hands again. This time she held half a dozen metal stars in each palm. When accurately thrown, the wickedly sharp points could take out an eye, or penetrate to the heart.
Jack sobered immediately. He needed to be in the courtyard, standing atop one of the ley lines to command enough magic to wrap Rejiia in a bubble of armor strong enough to contain those stars. He edged forward, Lanciar in his wake.
“Merawk!” Amaranth screeched from atop the tallest tower. He spread his wings and swooped down, talons extended. Sunlight hit his feathered wings, making them glisten purple. He seemed to grow, to shed the light his black body absorbed. He skimmed over Rejiia’s head, grabbing several tufts of her dripping hair.
“Yieeeeee!” Rejiia’s screech echoed and amplified as it bounced off the stone walls that confined them all. She dropped the throwing stars to clutch her scalp.
Amaranth shrank back to normal size as he swooped about, displaying his trophy.
The weasel rose up on its hind legs and nipped at the flywacket’s tail feathers.
Amaranth screeched, compounding the noise. He flew higher, scattering tufts of Rejiia’s hair.
A bald spot showed clearly just off center of her head.
“Krej is nearly free of the spell,” Zolltarn gasped. “We must stop him from running.”
“Or transforming back to a man,” Jack added.
“I don’t want to go back to the days when he was regent,” Robb said as he ran up from the gate area. The fray at the entrance had given way to astonished gasps and stares.
“I don’t think he can become a man again,” Lancier said, pointing to the now animate animal. “His humanity is so deeply buried within the tin, it will take magic to bring it forth again. He’s been a weasel for three years. A weasel he will stay.”
BOOK: The Wizard's Treasure (The Dragon Nimbus)
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