The Dragons Revenge (Tales from the New Earth #2) (48 page)

“
How
do they even know that you are interested in hunting down the leader
of the greens? The wards around the tower block all spells, including
the elves', I assume.”

Simon
folded the parchment, left it on the desk and went to stare out of
the window.

“
Master
must have mentioned it to the lady cleric,” Kronk said to
Aeris. “They are not blocked from scrying there until we
install wards on the main hall.”

The
wizard folded his arms and leaned against the windowsill, watching as
the wind rippled the long grass in the field in front of the gates.
The world felt so alive and hopeful now that summer was approaching
and he could almost picture himself vanquishing even another primal
dragon.

“
Kronk's
probably right,” he said over his shoulder. “I haven't
hidden my plans from Clara, but until I put those wards around the
hall, and remind me to do that soon, I had better start watching what
I say outside of the tower.”

“
So
what are you going to do? See the herb witch?” Aeris asked as
he floated to the window to join Simon.

With
a glance at the sky, Simon nodded once.

“
I
may as well. It's only a short ride away and Chief could use some
exercise. I don't want him getting fat on me.”

“
He
will never get fat, master,” Kronk stated indignantly. “I
alter his diet and let him run to make sure of that.”

Simon
looked at the little guy and chuckled.

“
I
was kidding, my friend. But he does like to get out once in a while,
so this is as good a time as any.”

He
turned and went into his bedroom to change into a more formal outfit.
He'd been wearing shorts around to let his sunburned shoulders heal,
but somehow Simon doubted that Heather would appreciate staring at
his knobby knees and counting his ribs.

Aeris
and Kronk followed him and, as the wizard opened his wardrobe and
tried to decide what to wear, they moved to stand on the bed.

“
So
we are leaving right away?” Aeris asked.

Simon
took out the blue robe that Clara had given him. It was the nicest he
had and looked proper enough for a visit to a witch. He hoped.

As
he got dressed, he looked at the elementals.

“
Not
we. Me. There's no reason for the three of us to go. You two should
stay and keep watch on the place. It will only take me about a
half-hour to get to Heather's place. Maybe an hour to talk to her, if
she even wants to talk, and then a half-hour back. Not exactly a long
or dangerous trip.”

Kronk
was shaking his head.

“
I
don't like it, master. Yes, the note may have come from the elvish
elders, as I said, but what if it didn't? It's dangerous outside of
these walls.”

Simon
smoothed the front of his robe and cinched his belt around his waist,
settling his dagger comfortably at his side.

“
Kronk,
I'm a fully capable wizard now, am I not? Good. Then I should be able
to take care of myself when I go to visit a neighbor.” He
looked at Aeris. “You've done a sweep in the forest around the
tower lately?”

“
Yesterday.
There were no signs of any hostile creatures or suspicious activity.”

“
There
you go. It's a bright and beautiful day, the neighborhood is clear of
danger and I'm not going far. Now, stop worrying, Kronk. It'll give
you wrinkles.”

At
Kronk's perplexed expression, Simon laughed and slipped on his shoes.

“
I'll
meet you downstairs in a minute,” he told Aeris. “I just
want a quick word with our worried little friend here,” and he
nodded at Kronk as he spoke.

Aeris
sighed dramatically and swept out of the room.

“
Yes,
master? What is it?”

“
Just
one thing, my friend. A little insurance policy, let's call it, to
ease your suspicious mind.”

The
wizard's ride through the forest to Heather's home was uneventful.
The day was amazingly clear and invigorating and Chief was bouncing
at each step, obviously happy to be out and moving again.

There
was no real path to the witch's house. Simon hadn't spoken to her
personally in over a year. Normally Aeris dropped by every other
month during growing season to trade produce for any herbs or spices
she wanted to spare. It was an effective arrangement, especially
since Heather had made it clear that she was not the social type and
had no need for company.

When he finally reached
his destination, Simon gaped at the wall of spiked foliage that
blocked his view of the witch's house. He'd forgotten that Heather
had encouraged these plants to grow as a way to protect herself, and
her privacy, from intruders. Aeris had told him about it but he had
never seen it before.

The winding, intertwined
bushes looked like grotesquely large rose bushes, without the
flowers. The spines and sharp edges that grew from every branch
appeared keen enough to rip the flesh from anyone foolish enough to
attempt to force their way through.

So how the heck do I even
reach Heather's house, Simon wondered as he slowly dismounted and
looked up at the barrier. It was at least a dozen feet high and he
couldn't even guess how thick it was.

He reached up absently and
stroked Chief's neck as he tried to decide what to do. The stallion
looked around calmly and then jerked his head up and backed away
several feet,

Right in front of him,
Simon watched with astonishment as the vines began to untangle and
pull back, as if some large invisible hand was untying knots of rope,
The plants snapped and rustled, seemingly reluctant to release their
hold on each other.

But at last, a narrow path
was revealed, just wide enough for the wizard to squeeze through.

“
Well, I guess you
have to stay here, big guy,” he said regretfully to Chief.

The horse snorted and
shook his horns angrily. Clearly he didn't want to leave the wizard's
side.

“
Sorry, but there's
no way you'll be able to get through there without losing some skin,
or worse.”

He patted the stallion
once more and turned away to face the open barrier. He took a deep
breath, settled Bene-Dunn-Gal on his back so that it hung vertically,
hoping it wouldn't get caught in the tangle of plants, and walked
forward carefully.

The barrier towered over
him as he slowly walked down the path, and the plants seemed to go on
forever. It became as dark as evening in the shadows of the barricade
and Simon shivered with trepidation.

If Heather decided to
eliminate a pesky intruder, all she would have to do was to command
her thorned guardians to slam shut and he would be pierced in a
hundred places and left to rot in the heart of the barrier. It was a
chilling thought.

But at last he saw a
sliver of daylight and Simon moved forward eagerly, but not too
quickly, still mindful of the sharp spikes just barely out of reach.

He emerged to stand in a
clearing. Perhaps fifty feet ahead, in the middle of the round
barrier that circled the clearing, was a small house.

Simon thought that
Heather's cottage looked very much like it did the last time he'd
seen it. Built of dark wood and covered with ivy, it looked homey and
comfortable. A wisp of smoke rose from its chimney into the still,
warm air.

The clearing was
cultivated and row upon row of herbs had been planted in ordered
lines, twining up sticks to reach toward the sun. The air smelled
fresh and rich with green spicy scents that the wizard found
invigorating. He smiled in spite of himself, the frightening ordeal
of crossing the barrier already forgotten.

A rustling sound from
behind him made him spin around and Simon watched as the path through
the thorny barricade disappeared.

Well, I'm not going
anywhere now, he thought. The idea was a little unsettling and his
good mood became tempered with caution.

There was no movement from
the cottage as Simon approached, except for the spiraling ribbon of
smoke from the chimney. When he got to within ten feet of the front
door, he stopped.

“
Heather? Are you
there?“ he called out. “It's me, Simon, your neighbor.”

His only answer was
silence and Simon stared at the closed door, puzzled.

She obviously knows that
I'm here, he thought as he listened closely for any sound of a reply.
What's she waiting for?

The wizard spun in a slow
circle, looking for any sign of the witch.

Maybe she's out here
working with her herbs?

But there was no movement.
In fact, the air was unnaturally still. Even the songs of the birds
from the forest was muted.

Probably just the thick
barrier, adsorbing the wind and noise, Simon thought uneasily.

Nevertheless, he slipped
Bene-Dunn-Gal off of his back and planted it butt-end on the ground.
Some part of him was screaming a warning, but it too was distant and
hazy.

Simon felt weak,
light-headed. The green smell was overwhelming his senses and he
stared stupidly at the quiet cottage, trying to figure out what was
wrong.

As he began to collapse,
he had time for one last thought.

You fool, you've been
tricked.

And the world went dark.

Consciousness was slow to
return. Simon swam out of a vast pit of darkness, his mind feeling
like it was trapped in honey.

He was aware of sounds
first. Mutters and squeaks, a rumble that made his head pound, a
hissing that spoke of snakes and slime.

He started to feel his
extremities. Pins and needles made his hands and feet itch and, when
he finally could lift his heavy head and open his eyes, his lids felt
sticky and almost glued shut.

He was sitting in a wooden
chair, his arms secured painfully behind him and his legs tied
tightly to the chair's legs. Simon shook his head to clear it and
instantly regretted his decision. A lance of pain stabbed into him
behind his forehead and he bit his lip to keep from crying out.

As his vision cleared, the
first thing the wizard noticed was that he was only wearing his
shorts. His robe, shoes and socks and necklace had been stripped from
him and, in the semi-darkness of wherever he was, his skinny pale
body almost shone in contrast. The sounds that he'd heard as he was
waking up had faded away and the air was still and quiet.

“
So, you're awake,
finally,” a voice said. It was a woman's voice and it sounded
irritable.

Simon turned his head
toward the sound and found himself staring at a robed and hooded
figure standing in the shadows of the room. He assumed that he was in
Heather's cottage but he could see very little detail.

Shelves lined the walls,
filled with flower pots, watering cans and canvas bags. The air
smelled earthy and a bit sour, as if meat had been left to rot just
out of sight. A few sticks of furniture were scattered about, made of
simple wooden planks.

He watched the woman
silently, trying to gather his senses and figure out what had
happened.

He'd been knocked out,
obviously. He recalled a sweet smell just before he'd lost
consciousness and guessed that Heather had used some sort of gas on
him. The question was, why?

As he continued to watch
her, not yet ready to try to speak, Simon tested his bonds carefully,
trying not to draw attention to what he was doing. But it was no use.
He was totally immobile, only able to move his head.

The woman stepped forward
and made a small gesture with her hand. A light, green and sickly,
the color of slime, suddenly lit the room.

“
I'm rather
disappointed,” she said from within her hood. “The great
wizard, Simon O'Toole, caught so easily. Did you really think that
the elves would send you to me by leaving you a note? Why wouldn't
they speak to you directly?” She shook her head. “Stupid.
Perhaps you really are as young and innocent as you appear,”
she mused. “Or perhaps you are just dumb. How you ever defeated
the great black dragon is a mystery.”

Simon stayed silent and
watched her, still feeling foggy and confused.

She raised her hands and
lifted the hood off of her head, letting it slip back to her
shoulders. The wizard was looking at a pale face surrounded by a mane
of dark hair streaked with white. One eye was blue, like chips of
ice. The other was urine yellow. As he looked into them, the woman
smiled at him cruelly.

“
You!” he
hissed through clenched teeth. He glared at her, pain and confusion
forgotten.

“
Ah, so you
have
regained your faculties. Excellent. You've slept for several hours,
little wizard. Apparently my dose of pollen was a bit too potent.”