Authors: S. G. Rogers
Secrets of Yden (21 page)
Raining Wizards
Finn, Brett, and Kira and Jon peered at the horned owl, dumbfounded.
"I've been in this room many times, and the owl has never come alive before," Finn whispered.
The owl stared at Finn quite placidly until he reached out an exploratory hand. The bird would have nipped his fingers with its curved beak if Finn hadn't instantly recoiled. "It's in a nasty humor," he muttered.
"That's weird. It didn't try to bite me when I touched it," Jon said.
Holding his breath, he inched forward to stroke the bird again, but jumped a mile when Kira grabbed his arm.
"Be careful!"
Jon's heart hammered in his chest. "Let's just all relax."
"Sage advice for such a young wizard," the owl said. "Whoo."
"What?" Jon asked, confused. "Who?"
The creature blinked and shifted on its perch, which resembled a gnarled tree branch.
"Not 'who,' Jon. I think it's just making the sound owls make," Brett said. "You knowâ¦
whoo
."
"Whoo," the owl said, blinking.
"Oh." Jon felt foolish. "Right."
Finn was wide-eyed. "The owl has Amanzo's voice," he said in a hushed tone. "And his temperament."
The bird fluffed its feathers and swiveled its head toward Jon. "Whoo. Get on with it."
"Get on with what?" Jon asked.
"Whoo," the owl replied. "Use the Key, Champ."
"The key?" Jon echoed.
A couple of wooden feathers swung open, just below the bird's beak, exposing an indentation in the shape of an ankh.
"It means the Portal Key!" Kira exclaimed. "The owl must have been activated by its magical energy."
"How clever," Brett said.
Jon lifted the ankh from around his neck and inched forward. Brett squeaked nervously when he was within striking range, but the owl remained calm. Bracing himself against possible injury, Jon pressed the ankh into the indentation. The four wizards jumped back as the bird's wings suddenly spread wide, revealing a secret compartment. Inside was a scrap of yellowed parchment, torn on both ends.
"I'll be a dragon's breakfast. We
'
ve got something."
As soon as he removed the parchment, the owl blinked and folded its wings. Jon replaced the ankh around his neck and handed the parchment to Finn to translate.
If hereinafter a crossing is made,
A powerful loss is the toll to be paid.
To close off the portal another must cross,
And offer in payment equivalent loss.
Finn's words were greeted with stunned silence.
"The wizards who hid the Portal Key most certainly set a very,
very
high price on its use," Kira said, finally.
"If my father had known this, he wouldn't have tried to open the portal," Brett said. "He would never have willingly given up his power."
"But he
did
cross and the portal is now open," Jon said. "According to this, some other wizard has to give up his or her power to close it again."
"Not just any wizard, Jon," Finn added. "The loss must be equivalent. The wizard must be at least as powerful as Guinn of the Fox Clan."
"Let us not pounce onto a conclusion. This still isn't the complete prophecy," Kira pointed at the bottom edge of the parchment, which was torn.
"That's true. The very last part is missing," Brett said.
"Great!" Jon said, exasperated. "Where on Yden is the third piece?"
"Who," the owl said. "
Who
on Yden has the third piece."
"What?" Jon asked, before he could stop himself. "I mean, do you know who has the third part of the prophecy, Owl?"
"The thief who stole my twin," the bird replied. "I don't know w-who it was, Champ. I'm only a piece of wood."
"The tree branch perch the owl occupies has two forks. There must have been a second owl on the other branch," Brett said.
"If we can find the second owl, I believe we'll have the complete prophecy," Kira said.
"Why do you keep calling me 'Champ'?" Jon asked the owl.
"Whoo," the owl replied. "Because Champ is short for Champion."
The owl grew still then, and Jon was completely frustrated.
Double owl pellets
.
****
When he returned to Dragon Isle, Jon showed Quixoran the parchment right away. As he read it, his grandfather didn't appear to be upset.
"Forgive me, but you don't seem to be taking this very seriously," Jon said.
"Youth is always so impatient," Quixoran replied. "Without the final part of the prophecy, we cannot expect to put the whole of it into context."
Context?
Whichever way Jon tried to interpret the phrase, the meaning seemed crystal clear.
Somebody is going to have to sacrifice himself to close the portal.
Since it was unlikely a boatload of wizards would volunteer for the duty, some stupid, idiotic moron would have to do the noble thing.
And I have a fairly stinking good idea of just who the stupid wizard will be.
Although Jon didn't think it was possible, his nightmare that night became even more horrifying than ever.
Guinn inched into the portal and his atoms began to fly apart. As the wizard dissolved from the feet up, his terrified screams of pain grated against Jon's nerves like a chainsaw. After Guinn disappeared, the portal reached out to grasp Jon by the neck. Unable to breathe, Jon scrabbled against the wooden floor with his fingernails, leaving bloody streaks as he was dragged into the light. With no escape and no one to save him, Jon's hopes disintegrated along with his skin. In one last act of defiance, he dove into the portal to end the tortureâ¦
He jerked awake as he fell from his hammock, landing facedown on the floor of the bungalow. His T-shirt was clammy with sweat, and he'd slammed his shoulder into the hard ground.
"You okay?" Max muttered, half asleep. Arielle had chosen to sleep with Max that night, and she didn't stir at all.
"
Yeah. Go back to sleep."
Rubbing his bruised shoulder, he picked himself up and staggered out into the cool of the night, where Yden's two moons cast their full light on Dragon Isle. After he peeled off his shirt, Jon conjured a cup of water and drank it. He passed a trembling hand over his face as he tried to regain his composure.
To close off the portal another must cross, and offer in payment equivalent loss
.
Surely this newest part of the prophecy had a big
unless
in it, right? Jon Hansen will have to go through the portal in order to save the world
unless
he stands on his head and sings a song backward or something like that?
I doubt it, but a guy can hope.
Jon had no intention of skipping merrily through the portal unless he was good and convinced it was the only way.
It's not like I'd be dying. Not really. I'll reappear somewhere on Earth, completely naked, with no idea what my name is or where I came from, and no magic. I might have a vague recollection of my family, if I'm lucky. That'd be okay.
Jon's stomach contracted suddenly and he bent double with nausea. He had a million questions no one could answer. Would the portal take all his talent away, or just the magical part? Would he still be able to draw and paint afterward? Would it change who he was inside? Would he care about Kira or Brett anymore, or feel friendship for Casey or Fred? Guinn seemed a lot happier post-portal, so perhaps Jon would be happier, too. Although with his memory wiped clean, how would he know any different?
To calm his anxiety, he took a walk on the beach.
I don't have to go through with it
, he reasoned. He could choose to not make the sacrifice, and to let time freeze on Earth.
It's not like I asked for this anomaly to be my problem. Jon Hansen does not always have to take responsibility for every little issue cropping up in the universe.
Life would come to a complete standstill on Earth while time continued on Yden. He could transport his friends and family here, one by one. They'd make a brand new life, and it'd be great. For all he knew, the anomaly might resolve itself eventually â or it might not. And he'd just have to find a way to cope with the heavy load of crushing guilt increasing every second he sat back and didn't do anything.
Right.
Okay, maybe to resolve this fiasco he would have to accept his fate, but it wasn't inevitable¯ not yet, anyway. First, he'd have to uncover the final piece of
the prophecy to see how this thing was supposed to unfold. And if he didn't like what he found, he still had some choices left to him.
I don't believe in prophecy anyway.
In the slim hope he'd find an answer, Jon planned to continue reading Efysian's dark magic scrolls at home. Lots of the stuff he'd read
was
twisted, but some of the spells would be pretty darned useful in a pinch. The magic on those scrolls was powerful stuff, and right now he was desperate for some powerful solutions to extricate himself from a horrible situation.
And no matter what anyone says, nobody â and I mean nobody â can blame me for that.
****
When Jon opened his eyes, he saw Arielle perched next to his head. Quixoran was sitting on a mound of clean, white sand a few feet away. Adam, Eve, and Alabaster were also curled up nearby, as if keeping a vigil.
"Good morning. Are you perfectly all right, Jon?" his grandfather asked.
As Jon pushed himself into a sitting position, Arielle squawked in protest and flew off. "I'm good."
Given his current condition, Jon knew his reply sounded absurd. He was shirtless, covered with sand, and disoriented. He also felt bruised on his shoulder and cheek. Yeah, he was doing totally great.
"Couldn't sleep," he mumbled.
He was relieved Quixoran didn't laugh or ask any questions. "I've been exchanging messages with Homa through the Wiznet, and he's agreed to meet with you this morning." Quixoran glanced at Jon's pajama bottoms. "I suggest, however, you dress before your meeting. You might be taken more seriously fully clothed."
"Er⦠yes, sir."
After brushing the sand from his clothes and skin, Jon transported directly to the bungalow for a shower. When he arrived at breakfast, he ate quickly, but not fast enough to escape a ribbing by Max.
"It was raining wizards in our bungalow last night," Max announced.
"Shut it," Jon said.
"Yeah, I heard a big thud in the middle o' the night, but I didn't ken what it was," Ian said. "I just turned over. Was that ye, Jon?"
"Never mind," Jon said.
"I didn't hear anything," Finn stated.
Jon gave him a smile of gratitude.
I can always count on Finn to be loyal.
****
Gracious and friendly, Homa ushered Jon inside his apartment at Castle Ytherium. His place was austere and sophisticated. Cool white marble covered the floors, and the ceiling featured a multi-faceted glass box chandelier. To Jon's amazement, an enormous aquarium full of colorful sea creatures took up the far wall. A coral reef filled the bottom of the aquarium, and schools of exotic fish played in the crystal clear water. In the distance were the ruins of a submerged castle.
"Holy smokes," Jon said. "Is that for real?"
"It's a spell." Homa waved his fingers and for a brief moment the plain wall became visible. In the next moment the aquarium returned, a floor-to-ceiling window to an aquatic wonderland.
Homa is no slouch in the magic department.
"Very, very nice," Jon said.
"What can I help you with, young wizard? Quixoran said you wished to speak with me."
"Bailey attacked me at a showing of my artwork on Earth.
"
"Oh no," Homa said, shaking his head. "Is that what happened to your face?"
Jon had forgotten about the cheekbone he'd bruised last night. "No, that was â I'm not here about the fight itself. The problem is Bailey transported into and out of a public place. He could have been seen. Very few people on Earth are ready to accept the existence of magic, much less Yden itself. I was hoping you could make him understand he's putting all wizards who live on Earth at risk, just to satisfy a grudge."
"I see your point. We can't have awkward questions from the Yrthlings," Homa replied with a chuckle. "But I'm uncertain Bailey will listen to his old great-uncle. I believe we need a motivation with sharper teeth."
"What do you mean?"
"I've drafted a law called the Protection of Yden Act that would apply to wizards who live on Yrth or who transport there. It would forbid any activity a wizard knows or should know might lead to the discovery of Yden. Any wizard believed to have violated this Act shall immediately be brought back to Yden and held for trial. If found guilty, the wizard shall be incarcerated under a suspension of magic spell for a minimum of one turn. How does that sound?"
Homa rattled off the law so quickly, Jon wasn't exactly sure how it sounded. "Well⦠I'm no lawyer, but I suppose it can't hurt to talk it over with the Executive Council. I wish Bailey would act more responsibly and then we wouldn't need a law."
Jon winced when Homa patted him on his bruised shoulder. "Leave it to me. You were quite right to bring this to my attention. I am truly sorry about Bailey. I'm afraid the boy has gone wild."
On his way out of the castle, Jon stopped by Dorsit's apartment. The Leopard Clan wizard had returned to his former rooms when he'd been reinstated as a member of the Executive Council. The apartment wasn't as fancy as Homa's, but it was warm, inviting, and comfortable, with a fantastic balcony overlooking the castle grounds.
After Dorsit made them both mugs of tea, Jon brought him up to date on the time anomalies, the incident at the museum, and his conversation with Homa.
Dorsit peered at Jon's bruise. "Did Bailey do that?"
Sighing inwardly, Jon made a mental note to heal any visible injuries next time he left Dragon Isle.
"No, I had a little accident. Dorsit, do you trust Homa?"
"There are few wizards I trust completely. Has he given you some reason to be suspicious?"
"No, he's always been pleasant enough. Ophelia has never warned me about him, but I can't bring myself to believe he's got my best interests at heart."
"Perhaps he doesn't. I can't see any hidden agenda for Homa, however. Not yet anyway."
"Maybe it's just a clan prejudice on my part. I'm probably being unfair."
"Not necessarily. Some wizards
do
have better character than others. If you'd ever met my cousin Leopold you would understand." Dorsit grimaced. "He came to a bad end."
"Speaking of bad ends, I'm looking for the last part of this prophecy. Quixoran wanted you to read it."
He showed Dorsit the portal spell scroll with the newest prophecy section magically reattached. The wizard pursed his lips as he read it over. "This is unpleasant, but at least it explains what happened to Guinn."
"Do you believe in prophecies?" Jon asked.
"I don't come across prophecies frequently, but the ones I've read have come to fruition in one way or another."
"One way or another?"
"Oftentimes the final meaning behind a prophecy isn't understood until after the event has taken place."
"Then what good is the prophecy?"
Dorsit's eyes danced as he laughed. "I've wondered the same thing. The impatience of youth demands clarity, does it not?"
"That's kind of what Quixoran said."
"At this point, I would look to the prophecy only for a measure of guidance," Dorsit advised. "As you say on Yrth, it gives you a 'heads off.'"
"I think you mean 'heads up,'" Jon replied, although what Dorsit had said might be more accurate. It was looking more
heads off
by the moment.