The Phoenix Ring (The Thunderheart Chronicles Book 1) (6 page)

              "Well boy, what is it?  I have a lot of work to do and not very much time to do it."

              "Uh, well, I was just wondering if you could send this letter for me," Aidan answered, handing him the envelope.

              "Where did you learn to fold a piece of parchment like this?"  Bartemus asked, eyeing the letter.

              "My mother made sure that all the boys learned how to send letters.  But I don't think that you use the rider system here."

              "No," Bartemus said, "We have to inspect each letter before sending it.   Once a week we send the mail on griffin back."

              "Thank you, sir."  Aidan said, turning around.

              "Oh, and boy?  Good luck tomorrow."

              Aidan was extremely tense as he walked back to room thirty-seven.  He was thinking about his mother.  He wondered what was going on at the farm, and hot anger overcame him as he remembered why he had left.  As he was thinking, a glimmer caught his eye farther down the path.  He walked toward it, and came to Thunderheart's ring.

              "How did you do on
your
evaluation?" he asked, his mind wandering to all he knew about the hero that once wore this ring.

              "I wonder how many others have sat here and talked to you, wishing you could answer them.  You were probably never nervous.  I must be going mad, I'm talking to a ring."

              But he could have sworn the ring moved a little in his direction.

              Aidan stopped outside his room and put his ear to the door.  Timothy was talking to someone, though Aidan couldn't hear what was being said.  He opened the door and stepped inside.

              Timothy was sitting on his bed with his arm around an attractive blonde girl that had tear tracks running down her face. Neither had seen Aidan, so he cleared his throat.

              Timothy and the unknown girl both jumped, bumping heads with a dull thud. 

              "I should probably… see you tomorrow," she said, brushing past Aidan out the door.  He noticed that her cheeks had turned scarlet.

              Aidan stared at Timothy.

              "What?" The smaller boy responded testily.

              Aidan just raised an eyebrow.

              "Shut up."  Timothy said.

              "I haven't said anything yet, but I think I'm going to.  What's her name?"

              "Eleanor," Timothy said, a grin breaking across his face.  "Tomorrow is the Soulrock calling day for her and her brother.  She's a little nervous."

              Aidan chuckled.  "She probably needs a big strong boy whose name starts with T to-"

              "Oh, shut your face."  Timothy said, blowing out the candle.

              Aidan fell asleep laughing.

              The next day Aidan and Timothy stood with a group of other mages outside the vault.  It was really just a huge hole in the ground that led into an area where all the Soulrocks were kept.  It was generally covered by a huge metal trapdoor, but during the calling ceremony it would be opened for each mage.  Every single mage would be given a ceremonial rowan wand that would be used to perform an intricate spell that matched the most suitable Soulrocks to a mage.  The mage could then pick whichever Soulrock he or she chose. 

              Then there was the fight between the will of a Soulrock and that of the mage, which sometimes ended in the mage's early death.

              Eleanor and her brother, a large boy named Jonathan, were standing a little to the right of everyone else with master Edwin, who was holding a piece of parchment.  Soon all the wizards and warlocks were gathered except for Master Bartemus, and Edwin stepped forward and began to read from the parchment.

              It was really just a long list of Eleanor's heritage until the conclusion.

              "Do you, Eleanor Gerang, agree to use your magic only to serve Sortiledge, to never harm those weaker than yourself, and to treat all the races fairly and without bias?"

              Eleanor stepped forward.  Aidan could see that she was shaking.  Her eyes drifted to Timothy's and locked onto them.  The smaller boy nodded his head.

              "I do," she said in a trembling voice. 

              "Then go, fulfill your destiny as a King’s Sorcerer, for the good of Sortiledge!"

              Eleanor walked slowly into the vault, and the door creaked shut.

              For a few tense seconds, there was no sound, Timothy had bit his lip and Jonathan had started to rock impatiently back and forth.

              Then there was a scream from the vault.

              Both Timothy and Jonathan stepped forward, but Aidan caught Timothy's arm and Jonathan was stopped by master Edward.

              A few seconds later, Master Edwin waved his hand and the vault opened.  He waited a moment before walking in.

              Aidan saw that Timothy had started to sweat.

              "She'll be alright," He said.

              "I know, it's just-"

              Timothy was cut short as a huge shadow filled the vault and master Edwin stepped out.

              Aidan saw Timothy hold his breath, and then Eleanor came up into the light.

              Jonathan ran to meet her, and Timothy let out a huge sigh.  She was wearing a gold armband with a huge green Soulrock imbedded in the center. 

              She came to stand in the crowd beside Timothy.  Aidan noticed that their hands drifted closer together and couldn’t help but feel a little lonely.

              Then Jonathan was standing in front of Master Edwin, and the same list of ancestors was read again.

              "Do you, Jonathan Gerang, agree to use your magic only to serve Sortiledge, to never harm those weaker than yourself, and to treat all the races fairly and without bias?"

              Aidan had expected Jonathan to stride confidently forward and accept, so he was surprised when Jonathan said in a voice far deeper than his sister's, "Do we have to do this now?  I haven't had much time to go over anything with Eleanor…"

              Master Edwin gave him a forced smile.  "That question was rhetorical, you're going in there whether you like it or not."

              Malachi stepped forward.  "Maybe it isn't time yet Edwin, we could reschedule." 

              Edwin glared at Malachi.  "If you want to take this to the council, we can.  But you remember what happened last time we took something to the council, don't you?"

              Malachi closed his mouth and stepped back into the crowd.

              Edwin motioned for Jonathan to enter the vault, then waved his hand, shutting the door.

              They waited for a minute.

              Nothing.

              Not a creak, flash, groan or even scream.  Aidan saw that Eleanor was squeezing Timothy's hand so tightly her knuckles were white.

              Finally, after five minutes, Edwin opened the door and walked down into the vault.

              When he came back into the light, he was holding Jonathan's limp form in his arms.

              Eleanor screamed.

              Jonathan Gerang was dead.

4

              Eleanor began to wail, the entire crowd let out a gasp, and Malachi fell to his knees.

              All this was white noise for Aidan.  His whole life he had been wronged, and through much suffering he had learned one thing.  That nature in and of itself is not evil, but people are.  And so Aidan's natural reaction was to find the evil and attempt to eliminate it.

              And he had found the evil.  It was in the form of Master Edwin, who had unceremoniously dropped the body and was waving his hands, yelling at the crowd to stay away.

             
I'm going to kill him.  All I have to do is say
ingo
, and he will never see the light of day again.

              Aidan raised his hand towards the fat warlock.  All the anger in his body was concentrated on that one man.  Edwin had murdered an innocent boy, and for that he would pay.

              Aidan had just opened his mouth when he felt a hand on his shoulder.  He spun around, the fire still strong in his mind, when he saw Master Bartemus.

              "Now is not the time or the place.  Bide your time, the boy will be avenged.  Now go, your friend needs you."

              Aidan turned his head.  Timothy did indeed need help.  Eleanor had found a staff and had it pointed at Master Edwin, ready to say a spell, or more likely a curse.  Timothy was on the ground, fumbling for a piece of rowan that he had dropped and was lying several feet away from him.  Aidan ran to it and snatched it from the ground.

              Timothy was now physically trying to restrain Eleanor, which was difficult since he was trying not to hurt her.

              Aidan raised the stick and pointed it at Eleanor.

              "
Mahor yok wenne
"  he mumbled under his breath.

              Eleanor slumped into Timothy, who glanced at Aidan and mouthed "Thank you."

              Edwin had ordered three mages, Aidan assumed his apprentices, to pick of the body and carry it away.

              "I know this is a very stressful time for all of you, but you can be assured that he will be buried properly, in the way of undertrained mages.  There is no reason for you to continue to mourn."

              Eleanor let out another sob.

              "Why don't we all head over to the arena, so that we can have some potential mages show us their evaluation?"

              The soulless glutton then strode towards the mage training area, and the rest of the crowd followed slowly.  Aidan could hear Timothy trying and failing to comfort Eleanor.

              The young girl was barely able to stand, Timothy was supporting almost all her weight.

              As soon as the crowd arrived at the training area everyone found a seat.  Timothy sat on one side of Eleanor and Aidan on the other.  The adults were in the upper stands, with Edwin in the center and the other two warlocks surrounding him.

              Malachi had red eyes, and Bartemus looked more sad and thoughtful than ever. 

              There was no list of ancestors for the evaluation, so Master Edwin simply stood up and called "Timothy Ashdown."

              Timothy let go of Eleanor and whispered "I'll be right back."

              The girl just stared straight ahead.

              The young boy stood up and ran to the edge of the seating area, where some steps led down into the actual arena.

              Aidan lost sight of him for a little while until he was in the center, on a raised platform, upon which sat a ceremonial staff of rowan wood.  He picked up the staff and started the incantation.  The spell was impressive, especially for someone who could not use a Soulrock.  The goal was to create a dragon-shaped inferno that would blaze over the heads of the audience until the mage ran out of power.  Timothy did well, but Aidan had seen him do better.

              As soon as the smaller boy was done he ran back up to the stands and sat down next to Eleanor, who had not moved since he had left.

              The three warlocks and the best wizards conversed in hushed tones for a few minutes.

             
How can they sit there and chat as if nothing happened.  A boy just died!

              But in truth, they didn't look so happy, most of the wizards were staring at their feet or glaring at Edwin.

              Edwin.

              He was the only one that seemed unaffected.  He sat with a completely blank face staring at a piece of parchment.  He looked up for a moment and his eyes met Aidan's, who tried to communicate as much hatred as he could through his gaze.  Edwin didn't even blink.

              "Aidan Rune!" he called.

              Aidan stood up and walked, barely seeing through the red haze that had begun to blur his vision.  In thirty seconds, he was at the top of the stage.

              He had imagined this day since he had arrived at the Fort, he had always thought he would be nervous, or brave, but he wasn't.

              He was livid.