The High-Wizard's Hunt: Osric's Wand: Book Two (9 page)

Osric chuckled at the display and strode towards the tree.

“You all right over there?” Osric approached, ready to leave. Kenneth wasn’t sitting, but rather leaning with his head against the tree and facing away, as if he had fallen asleep while standing. “We can wait till tomorrow if you need some rest. Wouldn’t take long to build a tent if you need it.” Osric felt the sensation of his gift activating, indicating an event of importance, but he couldn’t see anything around them.

Kenneth didn’t move so Osric gave him a nudge to wake him. Kenneth turned slowly and then quickly grabbed Osric’s face in both hands and looked up with sheer white eyes that drew Osric into another time, another place.

Osric felt shackles around his wrists and ankles, and he could hear a muffled voice from his left. He felt a cold, wet wall against his bare back as he opened his eyes in the vision. He shivered in the dim, cold room and strained against his bonds. He noticed a table in the center of the room reflecting pale light from candles mounted on the wall across from him. He heard a familiar cough from his left and Osric turned his head to see Kenneth stretched out on the wall only a few strides away. Kenneth’s face was swollen, and several gashes on his abdomen implied that he had been whipped fiercely. Osric tried to call out to rouse his friend, but his cry was stifled from something stuffed in his mouth. The door on the other side of the room opened. A tall, slender man grinned maliciously as he entered, accompanied by two guards in hooded uniforms that obscured their faces.

“Now, I think I have convinced you both that sarcasm will be met with pain.” The man looked at Kenneth’s unconscious body and then back at Osric. “I need you to tell me about your wand.” Osric recognized the wand the man held as his own, and blackness filled the vision. Kenneth’s voice thundered in the dark, distant and oddly resonant.

The High-Wizard’s heart will break or blight, casting success onto dark or light. When knowledge shared of knowledge gained is won, cast not the common eye upon the stone. First lay the stones from under ground to sky, then shift the sight and weave the flow of time. Build the order, Aranthians arise.

Osric’s vision returned to normal and Kenneth slumped to the ground. Osric caught him and lowered him gently.
What in Archana was that?
Osric thought to himself. The implications of Kenneth’s vision and prophecy sent Osric’s mind reeling. The vision seemed so real, and the prophecy so disturbing, that Osric was sure he had not imagined it. He could still hear the words echoing in his head.
If Kenneth has somehow acquired the See-er’s ability, I really need to contact Gus.
He took out his wand and focused.

“Gus, take out your wand, quickly!”

“What in blazes do you want me to hurry for, boy!” Gus’ diaphanous image appeared, hovering in the light cast by the tip of Osric’s wand.

“Kenneth is a See-er!”

“No, he is a Hunter. Even your poor mind should be able to tell the difference.”

“He just grabbed me like the old woman on the dragon deck, and I saw another vision and prophecy. Trust me, I didn’t mistake an arrow for a prophecy.” Osric saw the image of the grassy meadow behind Gus and grabbed Kenneth’s arm. “We are coming to you! You can see for yourself!”

*

“No, wait!” Gus screamed in a panic, but it was too late. Osric had spoken the
traveling
spell and Gus felt an impact in the air around him as they appeared on the ground behind him. Osric and Kenneth lay coiled up, shivering as they fought for warmth in the trap they didn’t realize was waiting for them. Gus peered at the trap with his gift, hoping there was something he could do to save them, and he screamed as loud as he could in the empty field for Fallon’s help.

Fate

Darin stood leaning against the sheer, rock face that edged the campsite, yawning and fighting off sleep. Asram was sitting on the other side of the camp from him on a large boulder. They could hear the chittering of tree sprites out in the forest, but they hadn’t seen any movement near the camp. Soon it would be time to wake Thom and Shrad for the next watch and they could get some sleep. Darin had the urge to relieve himself and signaled Asram that he would be back in a moment. He walked away from the light of the fire slowly, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness. Very little starlight filtered down through the trees, and soon he could not see the path at his feet. He retraced his steps and pulled a long branch from the fire to use as a torch. Asram grinned at his foolishness as he hurried off into the woods.

Darin walked quickly but carefully until he was out of range of the firelight. He looked around for somewhere to place the burning brand where it wouldn’t ignite a fire or go out, leaving him blind to make his way back to camp. He found some large rocks a little further down the trail, and he wedged the end of the branch between them. He thought he heard rustling leaves behind him, but when he spun around there was only an empty path. He chuckled at his own nervousness. His hands froze as he turned back and began to reach for his belt buckle. Perched on top of the rock, leaning against the stick serving as his torch, was a tree sprite. The creature looked up at him with big, saucer like eyes. It glanced back and forth between Darin’s eyes and his belt, cocking its head to the side as though it were listening intently.

“Get out of here, you little pest.” Darin waved his hand at the sprite, hoping to scare it back into the trees. The tree sprite only looked back at him with curious eyes and hopped up and down a few times on the rock. Darin took a step closer to the rock, and the few coins he had in a pouch tied to his belt clinked with his movement. The tree sprite began chittering with excitement and suddenly jumped toward Darin. It clung to his belt and when Darin swung his hand down to brush the creature off, it leaped away from him deftly, clutching his coin pouch in its tiny hands. “Hey! Give that back.” Darin scowled at the small creature and swore when it scampered off into the trees. He reached out and grabbed the torch and raced off after the sprite.

He was surprised when the sprite did not climb up into the trees immediately, but he suspected the added weight of the pouch was too much for the little beast. He followed it easily at first, but it was gaining distance from him as he was not able to move through the underbrush as easily as the leaping sprite. His uniform snagged on a tree branch and he nearly lost his footing. When he untangled himself from the branches and looked up, the sprite was nowhere to be found. He listened intently, hoping to hear the clinking of his coins as the tree sprite escaped with the stolen pouch. He heard rustling leaves and chittering from several of the trees around him, and he held his torch up high over his head with trepidation. He swallowed harshly and looked all around. The trees above him were swarming with tree sprites. There were hundreds of them. He heard a clinking noise to his right, and he looked over to see the sneaky sprite who had robbed him dangling the pouch from its cord up in the tree. Darin took a steadying breath and began inching back the way he had come. He had always found tree sprites to be curious, harmless creatures, but he was sure he didn’t want to provoke hundreds of them at once. He would take the loss of the coins and leave them be.

Darin took a few steps back toward the path, and the sprite holding his pouch hopped down to the ground, along with two others from a nearby tree. He took several more steps and the tree sprites hopped closer to him. The other sprites up in the trees watched him eagerly, leaning forward as they perched on the branches, eyes wide and ears perked forward. They began chittering excitedly just as the first one had before it lunged at him. Darin dropped the burning branch and took off running. He could hear the creatures chittering and scampering through the forest behind him. He could see very little and he hoped he was heading in the right direction. Leaping over a large branch, he turned back to see if they were gaining on him. His foot caught a tree root and his leg twisted violently underneath him. He was spun around as he heard a bone in his leg snap, and his body was propelled backward, his arms flailing out in an attempt to right himself. The loud thud of the side of his head hitting a rock echoed in his ears. He tried to get up, but his limbs would not respond to his desires. He tried to turn his neck, but shards of blinding pain exploded in his head. From his position he could only see the rock which had broke his fall and a little ways past it along the ground. Suddenly, he realized the rocks looked familiar. The path was only strides away, and he could have reached out and touched the point where he had wedged his torch between the rocks to relieve himself, if only he could make his arm move. He noticed movement from the corner of his eye, and he watched as liquid swirled with the dirt near his head. He wondered if it were starting to rain. He tried to stay awake to watch the patterns in the strangely thick puddle forming in front of him, but his vision went dark. He was tired anyway, and surely if he were so close to the path, someone would come soon and help him. Darin stopped fighting the darkness and drifted off to sleep.

*

Thom’s dreams were riddled with scenes of himself lost in the woods, surrounded by large, unfamiliar trees filled with sprites. They were laughing and throwing sharp rocks at him, and each time he tried to escape, the trees would shift to block his path. He woke suddenly to a sharp pain in his ribs. Deep darkness permeated the forest, interrupted only by their small fire. Thom rubbed his bleary eyes in an attempt to make out his surroundings. Finally, Thom was able to discern the features of Asram’s face looming above him.

“Thom, Darin should have been back by now. I think something may have happened to him. Wake up!” Asram sounded worried, and more than a little angry.

Thom sat up and stretched his arms, trying to force the images of his dream from his mind. He jumped slightly at a clinking sound off to his left. He glanced toward the noise and his breath caught in his throat.

“Thom, it’s just a tree sprite. They are all over these woods. What’s wrong with you?” Asram took a few steps closer to the creature at the edge of their camp. “Hey, isn’t that Darin’s purse?” The small, furry creature hopped up and down, causing the coins in the small purse to clink together. It skipped backward, and then chittered at the men while they stared in confusion.

“What is that little pest doing?” Thom wondered aloud.

“Do you think it wants us to follow it?” Asram asked.

“Wake up Aron and the others. This can’t be good.” Thom scrambled to his feet and grabbed his spear in one hand and a rock in the other. Thom hated tree sprites.

*

Aron, Thom, and Shrad walked quickly along the path as the tree sprite skipped in front of their torch light, glancing back periodically to make sure they were following. Darin’s small, leather purse jingled oddly with its movements in the silence of the predawn forest. They hadn’t traveled very far from the camp when the tree sprite suddenly jumped up into the trees and began chittering loudly. The men glanced around them, and Thom cringed when he noticed Darin’s limp body lying in a puddle of blood alongside the path. The tree sprite leaped nimbly to the ground and batted at Darin’s cheek with one small paw. It jingled the purse near his ear and tugged on his hair. Aron kicked at the creature to chase it away, but it avoided his boot easily. The tree sprite ran between Aron’s legs and began fidgeting with Darin’s belt. Shrad bent down near the body and made soft, cooing noises to reassure the sprite.

“You can’t return it to him now, little one. Give me the purse.” He held out his palm and the tree sprite placed the purse in his hand with wide, sad eyes. It chittered for a moment more before scampering up into the trees. Aron stepped off the path and examined the broken branches that indicated Darin’s course through the trees.

“Why would he come crashing through the forest like that? Darin was a skilled and nimble hunter,” Aron said.

“Anyone could fall in the dark if they strayed from the path. Do you really think something was chasing him?” Shrad glanced over at Aron and then deeper into the forest behind them uneasily.

“I assume so, or else he would have kept his head and moved carefully, or never left the path to begin with. Poor fool, lying in his own blood and dying a worthless death. It’s a shame, but there is nothing we can do for him now. Maybe some scavenger will come along and make a meal of him.” Aron looked down at Darin’s body in disgust. “Let’s get back to camp.”

“The tree sprites killed him,” Thom said in a near whisper. Aron and Shrad both looked at him as though he were daft. “Do you think they got Cowald, too? He never came back last night.”

Aron just shook his head and started back up the path. His men were disappearing rapidly, and it seemed at least one of them had gone mad. It was going to be a long journey down the volcano.

“We should at least find some water on the way back,” Shrad said. “We can look for tracks from Cowald, too.”

“Fine, but I want to be on our way quickly. We have a long day ahead of us,” Aron replied.

They headed further down the path as early morning light began to creep through the leaves above them. They found boot prints leading off into the forest and followed them until they heard the sound of running water. Twice, they found places where the tracks overlapped as though Cowald had been following his own footsteps through the forest.

“That idiot is probably still out here walking in circles,” Thom sneered.

They headed toward the water, keeping an eye out for further signs of Cowald as they walked. As they came upon the small stream, they found him. Aron cursed and asked, “How do you drown in a shallow creek? What in Archana’s name is going on around here?”

Shrad pulled the body from the water and the three men all looked in shock at the expression on Cowald’s face. It was a frozen mask of terror mixed with rapture. Shrad moved away quickly and gestured for the other men to follow him back into the forest.

“I’ve seen that expression before,” Shrad whispered. “A water elemental used to live in a pond near the village I grew up in. Some of the old women said it was good luck to have elementals nearby, but a stranger went fishing there one day and he looked just like Cowald when we found him.”