Diary of a Conjurer (25 page)

“Fine job we did, sir,” Xylepher whispered as
he stuck out his chest. “Didn’t think we’d sink the whole ship, but
we did. The weasels have some pretty sharp teeth!”

Silvio grunted. “Hacatine’s wrath is
sharper.” With a pounding heart, he wiped his brow with his arm.
Flames from Alcove forest haunted his memory. The woman was evil
and she’d be looking for him with a vengeance. “We’re doomed.”

“We can hide.”

Silvio turned to the little man, “Hide? Yes.
We can hide. But the boy, will the boy hide? It’s not just these
old bones that matter anymore. I have more to watch out for than
just my body.” When Xylepher looked up at him with questioning
eyes, Silvio explained. “Still guarding my magic.”

The Xylonites no longer sang, but waited for
Silvio and Xylepher to catch up. The ships were in plain view now,
and everyone could see them. The conjurer pointed toward the
western edge of the bluff, where the switchbacks that climbed the
overlook were more gradual, leading to hills that sloped into
rolling grassland above the beach.

“Run!” His command tapered to an excited
cough.

One thing about the little people, they were
quick. Much quicker than the old man who hobbled and waddled his
way to the trail. Xylepher was kind enough to stay with him, though
Silvio kept shooing him away. “Let Hacatine think I’m alone,” he
complained, huffing his way up the hill.

“Pardon my saying, sir, but she won’t see me
in her spy glass. I’m too small.”

The old man grunted, too spent to argue. Once
on the hill, the Xylonites could barely be seen in the grass.
They’d be safe. And the green dust the Xylonites had collected at
the beach had enough power to transform Silvio into a crooked,
wind-blown pine, like those that dotted the landscape. Not
something Silvio looked forward to doing. His joints still hurt
from the last time he turned into a tree.

The sea breeze blew hard against their faces
once they peaked the bluff. Seagulls floated, stagnant, bucking the
wind and going nowhere. Following the lead of the Xylonites, Silvio
crawled, hoping to get as far inland as possible before Hacatine
reached shore. His bones creaked as his knees pushed against the
wet grass, the blades tickled his nose. He moaned once, holding
back a sneeze, but gasped when he saw a figure in the meadow very
near them.

“How the bunzwacker did she get here?”

It was her! The statue! The sorceress he
froze a few days prior now lay face up in the grass.

“What do we do, sir?”
Xylepher spoke quietly as he crawled alongside the conjurer, his
eyes glued to the woman. Silvio looked at the little people behind
him, now frozen like deer sensing danger. He weighed his
predicament before he answered. Hacatine’s ships moored near the
beach. This warrior woman lay close enough to hex. He could freeze
her again but why waste his magic? Already longboats approached.
The whole army was coming ashore
.

“Scoot away!” Silvio waved the little people
further from the sleeping sorceress. “Dig down! Tunnel! And be
quiet about it!”

“What about you?”

Silvio turned back to watch the intruders now
pulling their gigs onto the sand. Close enough to see their faces;
Silvio crouched low to the ground. Hacatine was one of the first to
set her wicked feet onshore. She gestured with her arms, waving
directions to the rest of her company. The warriors ran toward the
cliffs and scattered as they climbed, quivers on their back and
swords at their waists.

“The depraved witch will sift the countryside
until she finds us.” Silvio grumbled under his breath searching for
a more suitable camouflage.

He squinted at the nearest pine tree that
lingered over him. Solitary, it’s trunk thick and dry, had been
weathered against the constant storms that blew over these hills.
Stunted by blowing wind, sand, and gravel, and by lack of water,
yet still green, still a pine.

Silvio crawled to its base and twisted his
already crooked arms to match. Slightly bent over, his hair blowing
like dry lichen across his shoulders, he closed his eyes. A fight
ensued within him, for he hadn’t ever wanted to be a tree again.
Still, what was safest had to be done. He resolved that his body
turn gray like the tree. Evergreen needles pierced through his
fingers from inside out and soon Silvio became the newest pine that
stood in the field, looking out over the ocean. A tree, but still
aware

“Promise,” Hacatine called out when she saw
the woman’s body. Her voice caught an air of excitement, as though
she was happy to have found her warrior, but then she restrained
herself and slowed to a walk. The girl rolled in the grass, moaning
as though in terrible pain, holding her hands over her face.

“Get up,” the queen said.

Promise didn’t respond. Hacatine knelt next
to her and pulled Promise’s hands from her face. The girl cried out
burying her head in her knees. If Silvio had not been a pine tree
at that moment he would have cast a spell to relieve her of her
pain, for she was miserable.

Other of Hacatine’s warriors ran to her side,
each armed with swords and bows strung on their backs, their long
hair blowing freely in the wind.

“Help her stand,” Hacatine ordered. “I can’t
talk to her like that. She’s pathetic.”

Two of the women helped Promise to her feet
but when they stepped away from her, Promise staggered and
stretched out her arms, grasping for whatever she could touch.
Hacatine held out her hand until the girl found it.

“What happened to you? Are you blind?” the
silver-haired woman asked with a voice as cold as ice.

“I see shapes, dark shapes.”

“What happened?”

Promise gained her balance and then let go of
Hacatine. She brushed her hair with her hands.

“Who did this to you? Where have you been,
and why did you leave your watch?” The lack of sympathy in
Hacatine’s voice made Silvio shudder causing pine needles on his
branches to ripple.

Promise lifted her chin, a gesture the
conjurer read as defiance. Was she really standing up to her
queen?

“Answer me.”

“I’ll not,” was all that Promise said. The
slap Promise received across the face made Silvio flinch.

“Is this the gratitude I get from you? I’ve
given everything to you, Promise. Rank! You were my first mate, my
right hand woman. You disappointed me. You’ve abandoned me. What do
you think this looks like to your peers? To the other warriors on
my ship?” She waved her arms at her army.

Promise stood steadfast. “Ask them what it
looks like, if you want to know.”

Hacatine turned to the guards by her side but
they stepped away. None spoke. She pivoted back around to Promise,
her eyes wild with anger. “Why are you doing this to me? You were
my favorite. What is it that took you away from me?” The queen
grabbed Promise’s cheeks and looked into her eyes. “It’s gone!
Where is your magic? Why can’t I see what’s in there? Who robbed
you?”

Promise pulled away from Hacatine’s hold.

“Who? Who stole your powers? Was it that
decrepit old conjurer, Silvio? Tell me!”

“What does it matter if I was robbed or if I
gave my powers away? I left your ship because I hate you.”

Silvio held his breath. Only the crash of
waves far below the cliffs broke the silence. The other women stood
silent, eyes wide, fear paling their faces.

“You hate me?” Hacatine’s lips slid into a
slanted smile. “You’re not as intelligent as I thought you were.
The choice you are making is, in fact, ignorant, Promise. I’m sure
you will regret what you just did for the rest of your short life.
Today instead of my favorite, you became my enemy. Pity. You’ve
seen what I do to my enemies?”

“Which is why I hate you.”

Promise’s daring awed Silvio as he watched
from his hiding place in the tree, chills racing up his back
rustling the needles on the old pine.

“Well then.” Hacatine paced a circle around
the blind girl, a crude smile on her face. “Let me think what curse
to use. To wander here in unknown lands, forage the wilderness for
food, blind.” She laughed. “You being food for the wild beasts of
this cursed country. Whatever animal hungers for your flesh will be
well satisfied. Does that sound attractive to you?”

“Your Highness,” one of the other women
spoke, but stopped when Hacatine turned sharply toward her.

“She’ll be an example, mind you, for what
happens to anyone who resists me. Keep that in mind. All of you! I
won’t have a traitor aboard my ship.” Hacatine waved, beckoning her
warriors back down the beach.

“You’re the traitor, Hacatine.” Promise
called after her.

Hacatine turned around. Her silver hair blew
in the breeze. The black silk of her gown hugged her body as it
danced in the wind. Though her stance sent terror through Silvio,
Promise didn’t budge. Instead she raised her voice even louder.
Silvio eyed the other warrior women as they glanced at one another.
Their ears were keen to the first mate’s words.

“You’ve ruled tyranny over all of us; your
lies have destroyed Taikus, our homeland, the land we used to love.
It’s you that steals. You’ve stolen everything good that the
Taikans ever had. You’ve murdered our loved ones and those who
didn’t die, fled. There’s not a man on Taikus left who is a man
anymore, and it’s because of you.”

“Men? Is that your problem? You’re worried
about men?’ She circled Promise again, this time taunting Promise
with slight tugs of her hair and a jab at her shoulder. “Ah, now it
comes out. How long have you been holding this in, child? How long
have you harbored resentment for our new way of life? You don’t
need a man.”

“What way of life is that? Forsake love in
order to relish in our own accomplishments? That was never my way
of life, nor my parents. Ask the others. Ask your warriors what
they want in life.”

“Don’t bring your parents into this. I know
your father. He abandoned you, Promise. Do you think he cares?” She
snickered as she brushed against Promise, pushing her off balance.
“You live off of emotions. It will be the death of you.” She looked
into Promise’s eyes again. “Now I understand your motives. You
rescued that Kaempern boy, didn’t you? You have feelings for that
dark haired vagabond? Is that it? Fool! He’s not even a wizard.
He’s less than dirt. Really, Promise? I’m surprised you would stoop
so low. But then, what else could come from the daughter of a half
breed.”

Promise straightened, her face reddened.
“Keep your wicked tongue from mentioning my father. He was a good
man and some day he will return and usurp your cursed kingdom.”

“You think? What will you do, join him? What
good will you be to him. You’re powerless.” She laughed.
“Completely powerless! Tell me. Did you give your magic to that
dark haired boy?” Hacatine lifted the girl’s chin, but Promise
shook her head loose from the witch’s touch. “You looked into him
on the ship, didn’t you? There are some things that you aren’t
telling me, aren’t there? It’s all coming together now. He isn’t
even a Kaempern, is he? Let me guess. You saw his secret, and it
blinded you?” She chuckled, arms folded across her chest as though
amused with her own antics “And now it’s your secret, too.” She
flipped Promise’s hair behind her shoulder. “Our secret.”

Silvio would have hexed her if he had enough
power, right then, as the witch continued scorning Promise.”

“Silly, silly girl, indeed, you are foolish.
You aren’t the first one to fall away from the Sect, chasing after
dreams of relationships that will never be. Do you actually think a
mere man can give you what you want? Not to mention a boy. I offer
Taikus something more substantial than any promise a man or wizard
could conjure. And you’ve rejected me.”

“What could you possibly offer Taikus?” The
girl’s voice trembled and Silvio feared for her, his eyes inside
the knotty pine grew wide and he held his breath.

The queen inhaled, her face turned red, her
fist clenched. “I have given Taikus more than that island has ever
known. I’ve given Taikus a means of joining the rest of the world,
unlike your dear wizard friends who have alienated us. My kingdom
will be rich with prosperity, land, and slaves.” She exhaled, and
her color returned as she regained her calm. “Pity my best soldier
has chosen not to partake in the plunder.”

“I’m sick of your brutality and your
atrocities. None of those girls want to follow you. They only do so
because they’re afraid of you. Go ahead and kill me. At least I
won’t be one of your pawns.”

“Kill you? That’s not my plan, dear. Not yet.
I can still use you, more now than before.” With that the woman
walked down the slope, her bare feet digging into the sandy soil as
she strolled onto the beach signaling her warriors to follow. Some
ran toward her, others lingered reluctant, glancing back at
Promise. Eventually they all returned to shore and pushed the skiff
into the sea. It wasn’t until Hacatine’s party was a tiny dot
bouncing past the surf that Silvio moved. The pine needles fell,
his hair turned silky again, but his bones creaked even more than
they ever had.

When his trunk grew feet, he stretched.
Pieces of bark and dust fell and he could breathe as blood flowed
back into his veins. He approached Promise, stepping softly on the
grass, and when she didn’t make a move, he stood in front of her.
Eyes red from the wind blowing sand and salt at her, or from tears,
he couldn’t tell. Still she held her chin high.

Her large auburn eyes were open, but they
showed no recognition that someone was near. Silvio waved his
crooked fingers in front of them. “She’s gone,” he said.

“Who are you?” Promise wet her chapped lips
with her tongue.

Silvio cleared his throat. “What do you see
me as?”

She was silent for a moment, her focus
resting not far above his head. “You’re the shape of a man. You
remind me of someone I know.”