The Phoenix Ring (The Thunderheart Chronicles Book 1) (17 page)

              It was empty, just as Borin had said, though a lizard-like smell penetrated the air.

              Aidan sat back on his heels and sighed.  The creature was evasive, smart, and malicious.  No matter what the amogh master had said, Aidan doubted that the creature would be so easy to get rid of.

              Aidan then grabbed his own bag, which no longer held the dragon scales and spines, and pulled out his book of magic.

              He found a quick spell that would kill most diseases and cast it over the entire hut, taking special interest in the area of his cot.

              He finally put the book into his pack and sat down.

              The Phoenix Ring began to pulse slightly, and Aidan slipped it off of his finger for the first time in weeks.

              It was amazing how well it fit him, almost as if it had been made for his finger, not for Marcus’s.  He had never really noticed before how beautiful the Soulrock inside was, gently letting off waves of magic that dissipated as they came into a camp inhabited by an anti-magic people.

             
Marcus is somewhere in there.  If I could just find him, then maybe he would know what to do.

              Aidan laid back on his cot and closed his eyes, trying to focus all of his energy on the ring.

              It was hard, the cot was surprisingly warm and he was very tired…

              He never noticed when he fell asleep.

              Aidan opened his eyes.

              He was in the Phoenix Ring, that much he knew.  There was a strange feeling in the air, of some sort of magic that was too powerful and ancient for Aidan to recognize.  But this place didn't
look
like the Phoenix Ring.  For one thing, Aidan's vision was blurred, as if he was looking through a cup of honey, and every sound he heard seemed to echo.  What little he could see was solid white, very unlike the study where Marcus resided.  This white was broken only by the thin silhouette of what may or may not have been a human.

              "Marcus Thunderheart?"  Aidan called.

              "Aidan?  Is that you?"  The silhouette moved a little to the left.

              "Aidan, I can feel you, but I can't see or hear you.  You're trying too hard.  The only way you'll be able to come here is if you wait for the time to be right.  Don't worry, you'll know when that time is."

              Aidan felt some anger rise, but it was cushioned, unreal.

              "I need your help!"  the mage called.

              "You'll come back when the time is right." the silhouette said.  Then it turned and walked away, becoming smaller and smaller until it disappeared into the nothingness.

              "Marcus!"  Aidan yelled.

              The world turned from white to gray, and then went black.

              "Wake up, mate," Timothy said, shaking Aidan's shoulder.  The green-eyed youth sat up, the world coming into place around him.

              The Phoenix Ring was still clenched in his hand, so he slipped it onto his finger.

             
Was that really Marcus?  Or was it just a dream?
He thought

              "Dinner's in a few minutes, you need to get ready."  Timothy said, pulling Aidan back to reality.

              Within each of the mages’ packs were three robes, two for travel, and one that was longer and more formal.

              When the mages became wizards, they would be allowed to decorate their robes with whatever they wanted, for now they were plain brown.

              The boys threw on their robes, grabbed their staffs, and walked outside, into the twilight.

              Two long tables had been set up on the grass, with unlit candles every few feet.  The smell of something roasting from the large middle house made Timothy's stomach rumble.

              "Oi!"  Shouted a young boy, coming from what must have been the kitchen.  Unlike all of the other amoghs Aidan had seen, this one was slightly chubby.  Somehow it only made his face more round and perfect.  "The rest of them will be back soon, they wanted to see if they could shoot anything extra for dinner.  Borin said you would want a bath."

              Aidan and Timothy suddenly became conscious of the fact that they had been in the presence of so many girls after not bathing through a week-long hike in the woods.

              "Follow me," the chubby boy said.  "Get your traveling clothes so we can wash them.  By the way, you can call me Cook.  Kind of a nickname, but it's pretty descriptive."

              "Cook" led the boys out of the camp, to small stream about knee deep.

              Aidan dipped his foot into the water.  Of course it was freezing.

              "That stream comes from the mountain snow.  It's the cleanest water within fifty miles.  Go ahead, hop in!"  Cook said, chuckling as he politely turned around.

              The mages bathed as quickly as they could in the freezing water and hung their clothes on some branches to dry while they ate.  Cook provided them with robes that were tight around their stomachs and loose around their arms.

              The three boys arrived back at the camp at about the same time as the rest of the amoghs, who were bearing a large wild boar.

              They feasted that night, more than Aidan could ever remember.  Cook and a few other amoghs constantly brought out more food, which Aidan and Timothy ate without thinking, even as the sun went down and someone lit a set of torches.

              There was boar, venison, fish, and just about anything else you could find in a forest. The only thing that was lacking was wine, but Aidan had never been able to afford it, and besides, Timothy had told him that the alcohol did strange things to a sorcerer.   It was substituted with something that tasted like milk and honey. The flavor of the food would never compare to that at Fort Phoenix, which had been magically enhanced, but it felt somehow more wholesome and real. 

              Aidan and Timothy sat on Borin's left, and Aaliyah and the boy who brought them to the camp on his right.  It was a great honor to sit so close to the head of the table, but Aidan wished he could be further from the amogh girl.  She took every chance she could get to irritate him, and to generally be as hateful as possible.

              It wasn't really that bad though, most of the time the mages just ate or made polite conversation with Borin, or the boy who brought them in, whose name was Joshua.

              He was actually rather nice, despite the fact that he looked as if he could kill both of them with his little finger.  Aidan hoped he would be the one to join them on their journey.

              As the last course came out, some sort of fruit pie, Borin stood and raised his glass in the air.

              "I would like to propose a toast, to the new Guardian Of The Light!"

              Aidan was about to raise his hand to clink his glass with the others when Timothy caught his arm, while continuing to raise his own glass.

              "Why not?"  Aidan asked, feeling a little embarrassed.  He didn't know who this Guardian of the Light was, but he sounded important.  To not pay him homage would be a sign of great disrespect.

              "That's what they used to call Marcus Thunderheart,"  Timothy answered, "You bear the Phoenix Ring now.  They're talking about you, mate.  No pressure or anything."

              Aidan sat back in his chair and looked across the table.  Aaliyah's cup hadn't been touched.

              "Now I know that you've all been waiting for me to tell you who will be accompanying the new guardian.  I am glad to say that I brought the matter before the elders, and they have now made their decision!"

              The moment he said those words, about ten older men and women, probably in their fifties or sixties, walked into the torchlight.  None of them looked strong or healthy, and some were leaning upon one another.  Even as Aidan watched, one of them turned to the side and coughed, spitting something red into the grass.

             
Blood-Cough.

              One of the men stepped forward and shakily held a piece of parchment out to Borin.  As soon as he took it, the elders turned around and left, but not before one woman, probably the oldest, stopped and looked straight at Aidan.

              "You have the same look about you as he did." the woman said, in a scratchy voice.  "You'll do well.  Good luck, Guardian."  She then followed her brethren into the night, coughing as she went.

              Every eye turned to Borin as he held the parchment in the air.

              "The name of the amogh that will be joining the Guardian is…  Aaliyah Brennon!"

              The amoghs all burst into wild applause, and someone called for a toast.  Aidan raised his cup, every bit of magic in his body ready to burst in a rage.

             
They know she  hates us.  Why would they try to send her on a journey where she might be our sole protection?  Are they
trying
to kill us?

              He noticed Timothy stand up out of the corner of his eye and leave, without even participating in the toast.

              He set his glass down and looked questioningly at master Borin, who nodded consent.  The young mage stood, grateful for the excuse, and walked into the darkness.

              He found Timothy by the front entrance of the camp, whistling a strange tune into the night.

              "What are you doing?"  The older mage asked, trying to keep his voice steady.  His friend looked as angry as Aidan felt, and he didn't want to make it worse.

              "I'm calling Grogg," Timothy said.

              Aidan felt a cold dread settle into his stomach.
             
He's completely under the beast's thrall.  If this keeps up then Timothy is going to hurt himself or someone else.

              "Why would you do that?"

              "Grogg already told me he doesn't like bad luck.  Bringing an amogh is bad on its own, but bringing a
female
amogh is like poking a griffin with a stick.  Grogg should know."

              Aidan was beginning to wish he had incinerated the goblin when he had the chance.

              "Timothy, you look tired.  Why don't you let me talk to Grogg, and you can go to bed early?" he said, pushing as much magic into his voice as he could without casting a spell.

              Timothy seemed confused for a moment.

              "Will you tell him that the message is from me?"  Timothy asked, swaying a little on his feet.

              "Yes.  I will.  Now go to the cot and go to sleep."

              Timothy turned around and stumbled off into the night, mumbling something about gnomes and amoghs.

              Aidan felt a little guilty, he knew that Timothy's power deprived body would be especially vulnerable to any magic, but he knew it had been necessary.

              Aidan waited until Timothy was out of earshot before turning back to look at the eerily dark forest.

              "Grogg!" he yelled, "I know you're listening.  We're going to have a friend joining us.  You're going to be alright with that, aren't you?"

              He heard a hiss that was probably supposed to be a laugh from somewhere in the trees.

              "Well good!  Because if you get Timothy hurt, I'll feed you to my griffin."

              The hiss-laugh stopped abruptly.  Aidan chuckled and followed Timothy into the camp.

              Bartemus didn't make contact that night, even though Aidan held the crystal until he fell asleep.

              The next morning Aidan and Timothy woke with the sun, packing all of their things and walking out the door in five minutes.

              They met Aaliyah in the center of the camp with her master, who was bearing a map.

              The girl held only a small pack upon which sat a bedroll, far too little to be going on a long journey.  Of course, Aidan was beginning to think that he and Timothy were carrying far too much.  The thing that was really intriguing about the girl was the weapons.

              From head to toe she was covered in knives, a bow and quiver, and even two short swords.  That much gear must have weighed at least as much as a knight's shield and sword, but she bore it as if it didn't exist.

              Ignoring the looks of hatred that Aaliyah and Timothy were passing, Aidan approached master Borin.

              "Thank you for your hospitality last night, the feast was incredible."

              "I hope so," Aaliyah said, "the food you ate in one sitting would have accounted for five or seven meals during the winter."