The Weaving of Wells (Osric's Wand, Book Four) (4 page)

“Look.” Gus had evidently sensed the distrust. “It appears to me that you two aren’t in the mood for my attempts at being cute. Nor does it seem that you are in the mood for my attempt to apologize for being a bad teacher. So, dammit, let’s try honesty and see how far that gets us.” Gus nodded sharply, his voice rising in both pitch and volume as he addressed the room. “I’m excited, and I do need your thoughts on what is sitting on that device. So, if you’ll kindly pick your jaws up off the floor, wipe the drool from your chin, and look through that blasted contraption!”

In no time, Willam had his eyes pressed down on the opening in the strand-sight device. Gus climbed up a chair and pulled himself up on top of the table where the strand-sight device sat, watching the examination with keen interest.

“Man.” Kenneth shook his head as he watched Gus climb the table. “And he may never be nice again. I wish I’d known to say goodbye to the nice Gus. But we’ll place a nice grave marker for him later tonight.”

“Whoa!” Willam hadn’t heard any of the sarcasm, but he began sliding the sword from hilt to tip and then back again below the glass. “What happened to this?” He looked up enthusiastically, backing away to let Kal take a look.

“A unicorn turned it into a wand right before the palace collapsed last year,” Gus replied with a smile.

“Unicorns?” Kal inquired as he watched Willam step away from the device.

“Yes,” Gus replied, motioning toward Pebble, who had made himself busy exploring the room’s many sticks, unaware of the conversation happening behind him. “My brilliant son even had the help of the unicorns to make his wands. It seems the world has just been rude to the unicorns all these years, or they would have spoken to us all along, right?”

Pebble was still unaware of the conversation.

“No matter. That’s what you heard, right?” Gus addressed those who arrived with him.

“That’s my best guess, from what we heard. Though it seems an awfully large grudge to hold,” Jane replied as Macgowan and Kenneth both nodded in agreement.

“It’s a wand made of a mix of amulets and charms, right?” Kal looked at Gus for an answer.

“What?” The prairie dog looked shocked.

“Well, isn’t it? I noticed the same charm at the tip of it that’s in the necklace Bridgett wears.” He was unsure of himself, but that was how he would have felt even if nobody else was in the room.

“When did you have the opportunity to examine that amulet?” Gus squinted his small brown eyes.

“Well, you sent us to watch over her the night she got back after being injured in the battle. I heard the stories that everyone told about your first adventures together, and I wanted to see what it looked like. I sorta snuck it out for a few minutes while Willam was asleep.”

“You what?” The accusing expression on Gus’s face told Kal that he had said too much.

“Willam was there in case she woke up, and I had it back before either of them woke, so I don’t see what the big deal is. But that’s it. Look, it’s the exact same color on the third ring, right here.” He pointed at a spot near the tip.

Gus stepped forward and looked down at Legati.

“You may just be right, boy. I’m impressed. Each ring behind the first seems to contain a different gift, but there are genuine life strands weaving their way through the entire wand. I’ve never seen a wand with life strands.”

“Well, this is no ordinary wand. I’ve never seen anything like it. The charms seem to be working together, feeding off of each other, as if they are alive,” Kal said, gazing at the sword in awe.

“Don’t be daft, boy. Charms aren’t alive, they’re just spells trapped in objects.” Gus pouted briefly as he noticed the scolding expressions on Kenneth and Jane’s faces in response to his harsh words. “Although, I admit that if these are charms, they are not like any charm I have ever seen. Perhaps there is more to it than just a chain of normal charms trapped in a sword.”

“If this thing isn’t alive, then why does it have its own life strand?” Willam asked, causing Gus to fall silent with his mouth open as he stared at the amazing wand lying under the eyepiece of the device.

“There is much about it we still don’t know. But, we will study it together and learn. Kal, how are these rings like charms? What do you see?”

Kal glanced over at Gus briefly, surprised at the patient, teacherly tone of the small, furry tyrant he was used to working for.

“Well, the first one seems to be leaching the levitation gift from my blood as we speak. It’s like a charm, always active.”

“Remind me to tell Largrid I was wrong. That device is amazing; I didn’t even notice that with my gift.” Gus turned his attention to Kal’s hand, which now rested between the scope and the sword.

Tendrils that almost escaped Gus’s gaze waved through the air as if blown by a breeze. Yet, when they contacted Kal they would fill with the pale yellow color that filled the hundreds of deposits throughout his body. Kal’s gift would then be channeled through the life strands, where they slowly began to build a new ring at the hilt end of the wand.

“Even now it grows more powerful. It finally makes sense. It’s grafting your gift into the wand’s makeup as we speak.”

“So that thing is growing more powerful all the time?” Willam stepped forward with a look of sheer envy.

“It sure looks like it,” Gus answered. “And, for safety’s sake we should probably have Kal here teach Osric how to use the levitation gift before it surprises him in battle by asserting itself as a fully matured gift. The Invisibility gift was probably a bit easier to manage the first time, I’m sure.”

Then he watched as the same tendrils, this time from the third ring of the wand, reached out to both Willam and Kal. Each time they journeyed to the two men and back, the tendrils carried a small sample of the magics within subsequent rings and deposited them within the bodies of the two men. Gus was astonished to see that along with partially formed gifts appearing in their bodies, there were also somewhat tenuous life strands twining around and adding to the life strands of both Kal and Willam. Gus was actually watching their power grow right before his eyes—no longer would the old saying “One gift, one measure of magic” hold true for these young men.

The wand was literally initiating the growth of new gifts on those around it. He wondered if the amulet-like segment in the wand was as choosy about whom to implant gifts in as Bridgett’s amulet was about whom to endow with greater power fed directly to their gifts. Gus focused on the way the tendrils moved, hoping he could see the intent of the magic in the pattern of its movement—did it shy away from some, or did it favor some more than others?

“I just want to hold it.” Willam grasped at the hilt greedily and pulled it out from under the strand-sight device.

“Just wait, boy,” Gus said impatiently as he looked up.

The sword twisted slightly as it was pulled, causing it to draw the recently honed blade on the flat of Kal’s hand.

“Ah!” Kal cried out. He turned a frustrated expression toward his friend as Willam tripped over his own feet and hit his head on the floor, lying limp where he landed. “Patience! You cut me, you prat!”

Gus blinked in shock, shaking his head. “He’s dead.”

“No he’s not, he just took a tumble.” Kal stood and pushed his fallen friend’s legs with his feet. “Get up, Will. This isn’t funny.”

“I saw it happen when he cut you.”

“Get up!” Kal dropped to his knees, shaking the limp body. He screamed at the others in the room, “Somebody help him!”

“We never even had a chance to save him,” Gus spoke in a sorrowful tone. “Blood causes an immediate transfer of every gift within the sword. I was still using my gift as it happened. I saw it. Willam’s life strand just snapped as his body was flooded with the new gifts and the power that came with them.”

“No, that doesn’t make any sense,” Kal cried. “Osric has fought with this blade for months. He’s cut guys in half with it, and it didn’t kill him! Will can’t be dead.”

“I’m sorry Kal, but he is dead. Osric only acquired one gift at a time. He already had all the others whenever he used the sword, and each one made him stronger. The influx of every gift at once was just too much for him to survive. I’m so sorry.” Gus gazed down at the still body of the young man. After a moment, he cleared his throat and spoke with calm authority. “Handle that thing very, very carefully. One drop of fresh blood and whoever is holding the sword could have the same fate. Kenneth, I think you’re safe. You’ve been using Legati since the beginning and slowly acquiring gifts along the way.” Gus began to shake, attempting to blink away the afterimage of Willam’s death, as the others saw to getting Kal and the sword to safety. Pebble peeked out from behind a table with wide, watery eyes.

* * *

“Something has to change. The hunt had its place, I’m sure, but that was long ago.” Eublin paced the room, tracing a finger on his chin.

“I’m just not sure what you want us to do about it. You’ve shown us that there are a large number of sentient minds who would love to live outside the hunt, but Osric has only known about this for a short time. He can’t change the world overnight,” Bridgett reasoned. She had found Eublin standing on his pedestal in the hall and nearly had to drag him away to the library to speak with him. Still, the subject had not changed from his preaching in the corridors.

“Yes, but he could do something.”

“I’m sure he would if there was some direction for him to take, but you are talking about a massive social reform. The hunt has existed in its present form since its inception. If you have any ideas on how he might change something that spans all of Archana, I am sure he would listen.”

“That’s just it; it doesn’t span all of Archana.” Eublin’s eyes grew wide in protest and he ducked out of sight behind a shelf filled with books. “But that’s what they want us to believe. Thankfully some of these books were written by some well-traveled individuals.” His voice was dull as he gruffed about, bending or climbing to retrieve a tome from the stacks. “Aha!” The note rose distinctly as his pale feet padded the floor, sounding his return. He rounded the shelf with a thick leatherbound book covered in dust. Eublin held a thin finger up to hold off questions until he could make his point. He rifled through the pages, searching for something, and his excitement grew when he found what he was looking for. He read the words aloud.

“Though the hunt became an important part of several realms, and with the humans especially, neither the elves, whose diet consists mainly of fruits and vegetables, or the irua, who feed upon nonintelligent burrowing creatures, have ever adopted the practice of honoring a sentient being for allowing itself to be eaten by another.”

With a furrowed brow, Bridgett remembered the time she had spent in both locations. It hadn’t occurred to her that she had been so far from the familiar world she had known. True, it had been obvious that their cultures were different, but she had a hard time believing that none of them observed any form of the hunt. Had she really gone that whole time without eating any meat?

“Don’t you see? The hunt is what it is on this continent only. It was more than likely a result of having so many intelligent species living in one place. You wouldn’t want to have a war because a lioness brought home a human, prairie dog, or squirrel for dinner. Something had to happen so that peace could be maintained with the multitudes.”

“But there is more than one sentient species in both the elven and the Irua Realm. The nieko live in the Elven Realm, and the weasels live alongside the irua.” Bridgett was thinking out loud, trying to sort through the information.

“Yes, but the elves don’t eat meat, and I am sure the nieko share in the dietary habits of the elves. As for the irua and weasel world, there are dozens of tunneling, non-sentient species that live in their tunnels—the weasels have basically the same diet. The hunt only exists on this continent, and there are too many other possible sources of food that could be exploited. Cattle was domesticated into herds and raised for food because they lack the sentience of so many other species. There are many other herd animals, and the herds can be increased until hunting is simply not necessary. Even here, we are almost to the point that we can tend to enough livestock that the hunt will no longer be needed at all. For it to continue in its current form is simply ludicrous!” Eublin pleaded.

“Okay, while you make some good points, there must be a reason why the hunt has thrived for so long in its current form. Would you prefer that we just kill whatever creatures we want to eat without honoring them for their sacrifices? And, even if it is ludicrous, it won’t be easy to overcome the normalcy of it. Do you have any ideas that could help us to change the widespread assumption that this tradition is normal and right?” Bridgett agreed with some of what Eublin was saying, but she couldn’t imagine anything that could help bring an end to the hunt.

“I don’t know. Red armbands were an idea that our group came up with, but then we realized that hunters approaching from different angles might not be able to see them. If we put the bands on every limb, they would be cumbersome. Nobody wants to feel like they are in danger if they forget to wear a piece of clothing, and what if the bands were to get damaged, lost, or fall off?”

“Sounds like that idea fell flat fast. I do agree with you, Eublin. I would prefer we didn’t kill others at all, but I don’t have a solution.” She traced the table with her eyes, searching for ideas.

“Ideas are in abundance at every one of our meetings. The most popular idea has the Aranthian crafters designing a shield charm that wards off arrow and sword strikes. I don’t have to tell you how impractical that idea is.” Eublin’s large brow furrowed in frustration.

“Yes. If a shield generated by a wand can’t survive long under aggressive attacks, how could a shield generated by a charm hope to endure the attack?” Bridgett agreed.

“Yes.” Eublin frowned, taking a deep breath and then sighing. “Lots of ideas, but nothing of substance. I only hope that all the minds we have gathered in this place can imagine a way for as much change to the hunt as they have for magic.”