Tales from the New Earth: Volume Two Read online

  “How could you possibly know that?” Kronk asked him.

  “In the field just outside of the front gates, they've build bee hives; dozens of them. They tend them with great care, I think, because they are clean and well made.”

  “Bee hives? Interesting.”

  Simon thought that over. That would absolutely prove that the bear people were intelligent. If they turned out to be friendly, perhaps they could trade. He collected his honey from wild hives. Well, actually Kronk did. The earthen was immune to stings and had no problem digging into a tree trunk to retrieve the honey. The problem was that the hives were often damaged beyond repair and the bees would scatter. Not good. But trading with bee keepers would be ideal.

  “Okay, I'll think this over. Thanks Aeris. It's good to keep an eye out around the neighborhood.” He looked at the drawing. “You never know who's going to be moving in.”

  “Thanks. So what were you working on so furiously when I came in?”

  “What, this?”

  Simon held up several pages full of notes.

  “I had this weird brain storm overnight. It woke me up early, actually, and it took me some time to get back to sleep. I sort of put it aside until I'd dealt with the call to Nottinghill, but I went back to it after I was done.”

  He put the pages down again and made a neat pile.

  “It's a way to create shortcuts for spells, to save on casting time.”

  “I don't quite understand what you're saying,” Aeris told him, taking one of the sheets and reading it quickly.

  The wizard picked up a pencil and began twirling it between his long fingers. It was a habit that he'd picked up since his Change. In his old body, his fat stubby fingers had been anything but dexterous, but now he could spin a pencil from finger to finger at high speeds. It helped him think.

  “Let me see if I can explain it. Um, okay, let's say that I'm in a combat situation and I want to cast Fireball, for example. The chant to power up the spell is composed of four runes, which I have to pronounce perfectly, plus a power-level rune, to set the amount of damage I want to do. Each rune has several syllables and a few of them are tongue twisters.” He watched the pencil spin from finger to finger. “I've screwed up spells more times than I'd like to admit. Fortunately it didn't get me or anyone else killed, but there have been some close calls.”

  Both of the elementals looked at him in surprise.

  “Wait a second,” Aeris said. “You've never mentioned this before.”

  Simon ducked his head guiltily.

  “Yeah, I know. Well, come on! Who wants to admit that they screw up on a regular basis, especially with something so important? Anyway, let's stay on track here.”

  He took one of his pages of notes and put it flat on the desk. The elementals moved around to stand next to Simon and look down at the paper.

  “See here? If I choose a keyword and link a chant with it and then add the Invectis command, I can use that keyword to cast the spell instead of rattling off a string of syllables and taking a chance of making a mistake.”

  “How does that even happen, master?” Kronk asked as he scanned the notes. “Just deciding arbitrarily to use one word to cast a spell shouldn't work, should it?”

  Simon chuckled a bit sheepishly.

  “I have no idea how it works, to be honest. Like I said, the idea woke me up and then I slept on it. When I got up this morning, it was sort of nibbling at the edges of my mind and I had to investigate it.”

  “Weird. If this works, you'll have to be careful which word you associate with which spell,” Aeris said thoughtfully. “I mean, actually using the word fireball to cast the Fireball spell would be problematic, wouldn't it? What happens if you say that word accidentally in conversation?”

  “Nothing,” Simon told him. “I still have to focus my power to cast a spell. That hasn't changed. So the easiest thing to do is what you just said, Aeris; use the name of the spell to cast that spell. What could be simpler?”

  “But does it actually work, master?”

  “That's what we are about to find out.”

  Simon stood up, grabbed his sheaf of notes and grinned at the elementals.

  “Come on, let's head outside and test out this weird idea, shall we?”

  The three of them left the tower and walked toward the front gates. Simon opened the locking mechanism and pulled the double-doors wide. He was pleased to note that they moved smoothly and didn't even squeak.

  “You've done well keeping the hinges and locks well oiled,” he complimented Kronk, who glowed with pleasure.

  “Thank you, master. We like things to function efficiently.”

  “I appreciate that. Now, let's go. I think we'll do this in the center of the field.”

  He stopped dead and slapped his forehead.

  “What?” Aeris asked.

  “My staff. I'm still getting used to having one again. Could you get it for me?”

  “Your wish is my command, oh great one,” the air elemental said sarcastically and bowed.

  “Stop that.”

  Aeris grinned and zipped back to the tower.

  “I've been meaning to ask you about that new staff, master,” Kronk said as they walked across the field. The grass was halfway up Simon's shins already and the little guy's head was just barely visible above the top of it.

  “What about it?”

  “Who made it? And how? It is enchanted, that much I can tell, but it is a fairly new weapon, is it not? I'm simply curious, master.”

  They stopped in the approximate center of the field, maybe thirty yards from the wall around the tower.

  “I understand. You did a great job with my last staff and I appreciate the work you put into it.”

  “Oh, that was nothing, master,” Kronk told him dismissively. “It was crude compared to this new one.”

  “I still think you did well. Anyway, this staff was created by Shandon Ironhand himself.” He paused for effect. “The king of the dwarves.”

  He said that just as Aeris zoomed across the field carrying the staff.

  “Wait,” he said as he handed the weapon to Simon. “What was that about the dwarven king? You met him?”

  “He made master's new staff,” Kronk said in awe.

  “Why would he do that?”

  “Because apparently the king is Shandon Ironhand.”

  Simon was delighted by the identical looks of surprise on his friends' faces.

  “Isn't he the dwarf we met back when you attacked the primal black dragon?” Aeris asked. He looked confused.

  “That's him,” the wizard replied. “It's a bit convoluted how he got there, but he's the king now. And he's my friend. While I was being healed, he used his,” he held up the gleaming staff and the clear crystal at the top gathered the sunlight and glowed brightly, “considerable skill as a smith and artisan to create this beauty. I've named it Mortis de Draconis.”

  “Killer of Dragons,” Kronk translated, almost whispering. “That is remarkable, master. Forged by the king. No wonder it radiates power. It is well known that the ruler of the deep dwellers controls powers beyond those of his people.”

  Simon leaned on the staff and stared at the earthen quizzically.

  “What do you mean? The dwarves have abjured using magic.”

  “I know that, master. I meant that he has power in his touch.” Kronk nodded at the staff. “Like that.”

  “Wow, I didn't know that. Cool. Well, whatever the case, this staff works. It actually healed the scars left on my body after I was brought back and put together by the cleric, Opheilla.”

  “It did?” Aeris began watching the staff suspiciously. “Are you sure you can trust it? Have you forgotten about Bene-Dunn-Gal? That weapon liked to taste your blood before it allowed you to use its power.”

  Simon took a deep breath and smiled as the breeze, tangy with the smell of the forest, washed over him. Even Aeris couldn't aggravate him today.

  “I remember Bene-Dunn-Gal very wel
l, thanks. And yes, it may have done that, but it also sacrificed itself to save our lives.”

  “I doubt that it had much choice,” Aeris said acerbically.

  “We're getting off point here,” Kronk told him sternly. “Master has said the staff healed him and he trusts it. Why are you arguing?”

  “To keep our wizard grounded,” the air elemental retorted. “These enchanted weapons aren't toys. They can be dangerous if misused.”

  “I know that. Trust me, I have great respect for anything imbued with magical powers,” Simon assured him. “Beside, unlike Bene-Dunn-Gal, this staff has no way to store spells. It only enhances my skills, and that's good enough for me.”

  “Yes, well, I suppose that's all right then,” Aeris said grudgingly, although he continued to stare at the staff dubiously.

  “Okay, now that that's sorted out, let's give my shortcut spells a try, shall we?”

  Simon looked around for a target. He decided to start off with a basic, less powerful spell, like Lightning. It was flashy and effective to a certain degree, but didn't use a lot of energy. The bonus was that the incantation was a real tongue twister for such a simple spell.

  “I don't see any dead trees around,” he said, using his hand to shade his eyes as he scanned the edge of the field.

  Aeris rose up several feet and spun in place.

  “There,” he said loudly and pointed. “Just to the right of that big maple.”

  The wizard turned in that direction. He spotted the old tree, a pale birch that was leafless and sagging, its bark hanging from it in strips.

  “Got it. Poor old thing has seen better days, hasn't it?”

  “Haven't we all,” Aeris muttered.

  Simon ignored him. He riffled through his pages of spells until he found the proper one.

  Yep, he thought. The chant is as jaw-cracking as I remember. No wonder I rarely cast the damned thing.

  As he was reading, Kronk was chatting quietly with Aeris.

  “Did you happen to hear our new neighbors speaking when you were down there?” he asked.

  The earthen had pulled up a few blades of grass and was twisting them idly in his blocky fingers, apparently enjoying the feel of the soft plants in his hands.

  “Speaking?”

  Aeris frowned and stared sightlessly across the field.

  “Now that you mention it, no. I didn't. A few grunts and growls but no actual words; at least none that I recognized. Why?”

  Kronk nodded at Simon.

  “I was just thinking, that's all. A universal truth when it comes to casting spells is that they must be spoken aloud. Master is trying to condense that process and that's fine, but he will still utter a word or words when it comes to using magic. If these bear people are mute, or have not developed their own tongue, they may not be able to cast spells. At all. That would, perhaps, make them a lot less dangerous.”

  Simon looked up from his notes and smiled.

  “Less dangerous than a bear that stands eight feet tall, carries a weapon and is intelligent? That's reassuring.”

  Aeris snickered while Kronk put his hands on his hips and returned Simon's look.

  “Oh master, you know what I mean. If they are a purely physical threat, then that is something that you could handle fairly easily, don't you think?”

  “Maybe. I wouldn't want to get too cocky though. Okay, I've associated the spell with a keyword.” He held Mortis de Draconis firmly in his left hand and pointed at the gnarled old tree with his right. “Let's see if this idea actually works.”

  He focused his power, imagining the spell, seeing it, feeling it build up in his mind.

  “Look at the staff,” Kronk whispered to Aeris.

  Mortis de Draconis was glowing and throwing off small blue sparks and Simon had to try hard to focus and not be distracted by it.

  The magic gathered around him unseen, but heavy, like the feeling of a storm racing in from the horizon. His body was shaking with the effort of containing it.

  Now Simon, his inner voice seemed to shout at him. Damn it. Now!

  “Lightning!” he cried and the staff shuddered in his hand, ringing like a bell. A massive streak of light burst out of the clear blue sky and shot downward to envelop the tree. The old birch exploded and a ear-splitting thunder clap rolled across the field.

  “Holy crap,” Simon said in the silence that followed. He stared at what was left of the tree.

  The birch had shattered and pieces of smoldering wood had been flung in all directions. Simon and the elementals hurried over and stamped on the burning debris. The last thing they needed was a forest fire.

  “Well, that was certainly impressive,” the wizard commented as they double-checked to make sure that none of the pieces was still smoking.

  “Agreed. But the staff was a little more...active than I would have liked,” Aeris replied as he looked at Mortis de Draconis.

  “You are determined to dislike this thing, aren't you?” Simon asked him as he held up the staff. “It's a tool to be used, not something to be feared. Now, can we move on?”

  “Fine. So what's next?”

  They walked back to the center of the field as a group.

  “Since an offensive spell worked, I think I'll try something defensive now. Hang on.”

  Simon went through his notes again, resting his staff against his chest as he shuffled through the pages.

  “So you weren't impressed?” Kronk asked Aeris as they waited.

  “Oh, I was. But you and I both know about enchanted weapons and the like. And how things can sometimes go awry when using them. The dwarven king may have had the best of intentions when creating that staff, but did he really know what he was doing? Or did he perhaps imbue it with too much power?”

  “Meaning what?” Simon asked as he found the spell he was looking for,.

  “Meaning that I wonder if he himself remembered that the king holds more magical power when he ascends to the throne than he did when he was a 'regular person'. It comes with the position. If Shandon Ironhand had a measure of skill as an artisan and enchanted his creations with magic with that skill, perhaps creating an object like the staff after becoming king imbued it with more power than he had intended.”

  “I hadn't thought of that,” Kronk said as he looked at the staff speculatively.

  “Guys, I think you're missing the point here.”

  Simon held up the staff, admiring its gleaming length in the midday sun.

  “The staff works, it does what it is supposed to do, and that's all. True, Shandon did say he added a couple of old enchantments to sort of help me along, but they weren't anything too powerful or, God forbid, nefarious. He is my friend after all.”

  Aeris flew closer and examined the staff, bobbing and weaving in the wind.

  “What enchantments?”

  Simon tapped the symbols inlaid into the metal of the staff.

  “These ones. I don't read dwarvish, but he said that one is an enchantment so that I can never lose the staff. If it's misplaced, all I need to do is call for it and it will return to me.”

  “Handy, don't you think?” Kronk said to Aeris, who nodded grudgingly.

  “And the other?”

  “The other? Well, it sounds a bit weird, I know, but apparently it is a spell that makes dragons more vulnerable to my power, when channeled through the staff.”

  “So that is why you named it Killer of Dragons, master,” Kronk exclaimed in wonder, his wide eyes fixed on the staff.

  “Exactly, my friend. It just seemed appropriate.”

  “Mortis de Draconis,” Aeris muttered, still looking suspicious.

  “Still not convinced?” Simon asked him teasingly.

  The air elemental backed off and then shrugged.

  “I'm fairly convinced that the king wasn't trying to do you any harm when he created the weapon, but that's about all. Time will tell if it is actually harmless.”

  “I suppose. Okay, let's try a defensive spell now. We can debat
e the merits of the staff later.”

  The wizard repeated his actions from the first spell. The forces gathered around him, Mortis de Draconis warmed under his hand and focused his power and then, with a little hesitation, Simon cast the spell.

  “Shield!” he exclaimed and with a rush of air that blew his hair in all directions and swirled his robe around his legs, an opaque ball of energy snapped into place around him. It extended out to six feet and cut off the summer breeze and even the smell of the plants and trees from the forest.

  Inside the shield was silence. Kronk and Aeris had been engulfed by the protective barrier as well and looked around them with interest.

  “Beautiful, master,” Kronk complimented him. “It is even more perfect than your old Shield spell.”

  “I have to agree,” Aeris said as he flew up and tapped the barrier over their heads. It sparked and darkened slightly at his touch. “Air is penetrating the shield, as it should, but it seems to be filtering out all other elements. I'd guess that you could stand in the midst of a cloud of poison unscathed using this spell.”

  “Good to know, but let's hope we never have to try that,” Simon answered dryly. “I got enough exposure to poison dealing with the primal green dragon, thanks.”

  He stretched and canceled the spell with a wave of the staff.

  “Good enough for now, guys. I'm dying for some tea.”

  He started walking back toward the tower, Kronk and Aeris following closely behind.

  “I'm going to spend the rest of the day condensing all of my spells. My idea worked so I think I'd better get this done as soon as possible. Just in case.”

  “Just in case of what, master?”

  “Who knows, Kronk? It's a scary world out there. This faster way of casting spells might just give me an edge, so let's make sure that I can take advantage of it.”

  He grinned back at his friends.

  “And tomorrow, we go furniture shopping in Russia. Now that's something I'm looking forward to.”

  Chapter 10