The Dragons of Ice and Snow Page 8

  So if not fire, then what? The primal black had shorted out when he'd lured it into deep water. It's main attack had been electrical. The primal green dragon had poisoned itself with its own lethal chlorine breath. So what was the weakness of a white dragon?

  Simon sat up abruptly and slapped the side of his head.

  “You, wizard, are an idiot,” he said loudly.

  It was so obvious, it was laughable, he thought. If the two dead primals were any indication, a dragon's main weakness was...itself!

  Simon jumped up, laughing giddily. He hurried back along the shore, muttering out loud.

  “That has to be it. A white dragon has to be vulnerable to its own breath attack,” he said to himself. “They thrive in the cold but their breath is more frigid than the coldest places on Earth.”

  He trotted around the tower, waving at Kronk who was leading the three horses out of the stable to let them run along the lake. When he got inside, Simon ran up the stairs to his study and sat down at his desk.

  His old spell-book, stained and dog-eared, was lying there and he picked it up and began flipping through it.

  His look of glee faded as he searched the entire book. Then he sat back with a dejected sigh and toss the spell-book back on to the desk.

  “I don't have any spells that are cold enough,” he said out loud.

  “Cold enough, master?”

  Kronk tripped into the room and jumped up to the desktop.

  “The horses are enjoying the sun, master. They seem happy to see the spring.”

  “Yeah, me too, bud,” Simon said absently.

  “So what was that about cold spells, master?”

  “Hmm? Oh nothing. I just had a theory on what the weakness of a white dragon would be, but I don't think I can do anything about it.”

  “You think that a creature that exists in frigid temperatures is vulnerable to cold, master?” Kronk said with obvious disbelief.

  Simon smiled at him.

  “I know. It sounds nuts, doesn't it? But the primals that I faced were brought down by their own powers, not mine. So I thought that I saw a pattern. I could be totally wrong about that though.”

  The little earthen looked surprised and then smiled back at the wizard.

  “But that is wonderful, master! I never thought of that. You may be right.”

  “Doesn't matter,” Simon said moodily. He tapped the spell-book. “I have no spells that use intense cold to do damage. I have Ice Storm and Ice Spear and that's it. Ice Storm rains frozen pellets on to the target. It doesn't do deep cold damage per se. Ice Spear is basically a penetrating spell. So even if I'm right, it doesn't do any good.”

  Kronk folded his arms and tapped a small foot, deep in thought. He looked up at the wizard.

  “So why not learn some more spells based on cold, master?”

  Simon leaned back in his chair, pushed back his hair and looked at Kronk quizzically.

  “And just how do I do that? I learned my spells through trial and error, as well as from runes in the book that Daniel gave me and, if you believe Clara, divine intervention. I've never seen any hint of special cold attacks in all my research.”

  “Yes master, I'm sure. But you can learn spells from others who have the knowledge, can you not?”

  “Um, yeah, I guess. Why, do you know someone that can cast cold spells that I don't?”

  He said it as a joke, but Kronk's smiled widened.

  “No master, but you do.”

  Simon leaned forward, put an elbow on the desk and rested his chin on his palm.

  “Okay, enlighten me. Who?”

  “The elemental who now inhabits the river to the north,” Kronk said smugly.

  Simon's mouth dropped open and he stared at the little guy, wide-eyed.

  “Aquamastis? Holy crap, you're right! He actually froze the river when I was fighting the primal black!”

  “Exactly, master. Water elementals can freeze water. A lot of water. That being might be able to teach you how to do the same. Or at least give you a place to start researching new spells based on cold.”

  “Have I told you lately that you're a genius? Because you are.”

  Kronk shrugged a little uncomfortably.

  “Not really, master. I just know more about elementals than some others do.”

  “I still think you're brilliant,” Simon said, shaking a finger at him. “So take the compliment. Now the question is, how do I approach that water sprite with a request to teach me to use cold-based spells?”

  Neither of them spoke for a moment and Simon got up and moved to look out of the window. He was thinking of a way to talk to an elemental who he was quite sure could squash him like a bug if he angered him.

  “Master?”

  “Yes?” Simon replied, still looking across the bright, sunlit field.

  “Perhaps we should wait until Aeris returns. He has spoken to that being several times. Aquamastis would at least listen to him, don't you think?”

  The wizard turned to look at the little guy.

  “You knew he was talking to the water sprite all along?”

  “Of course, master.”

  “Huh. Okay, that's a good idea. We do know that they at least speak to each other.”

  Simon walked across to his bookshelf, found the heavy book that his friend Daniel had given him and sat down again.

  “I have no idea how long Aeris is going to be, so I might as well try to come up with a new spell while we're waiting.”

  “Good idea, master. The more spells you can access, the more weapons that are in your arsenal.”

  “Exactly.” Simon looked up from the book. “Oh, before I forget, can you take the time to dig me up another lodestone? I'd like Liliana to have one, just in case she or her people need help in the future.”

  “Of course, master!” Kronk answered brightly. “I should have thought of that. I will go now, while the horses are enjoying their time by the lake.”

  The wizard began flipping through the book again.

  “Have fun,” he said absently, losing himself in the mix of runes and symbols that filled the pages in front of him.

  “I will, master. I will be back soon.”

  “See you then.”

  Chapter 6

  Kronk returned several hours later with a glowing lodestone. He broke it in half and gave both pieces to Simon, who set them aside.

  “Thanks. I'll Gate to Moscow in a few days, once Aeris returns and we speak with Aquamastis.”

  “Of course, master.”

  And then they waited.

  Simon knew that he wasn't a very patient person, but the two days it took for Aeris to return from the plane of air felt more like two weeks. He tried to decipher some of the more complicated runes that Daniel had written in his notebook, but ended up with only a headache and a sense of frustration. He knew, just knew, that there were high-level spells buried inside the complex squiggles but finally gave up the research for the moment as a lost cause.

  He assumed that he wasn't a powerful enough wizard to use whatever was hidden in the book and put it back on his shelf for future reference.

  Compared to Simon, Kronk was the most patient person that the wizard had ever met. He happily scurried around the tower doing chores, humming occasionally and filling the time as they waited for Aeris. Simon found it irritating and then laughed at himself for feeling that way. It was his own eagerness to increase his knowledge and powers that made him cranky, and he was honest enough with himself to admit it.

  So he spent part of his time in conversation; first with Clara and then with Liliana. Nothing was new with either woman, but the paladin was pleased to hear about the lodestone. Simon told her that he'd call before Gating to her camp, to make sure that she and her people were there.

  “You are welcome at any time, sir wizard,” Liliana said with a warm smile. “And just to keep you up to speed, we are still searching for your lost spell-book. Spring is finally starting to creep in and the snow is re
ceding. I'm hopeful that when it does, it will reveal your book.”

  “Thanks so much,” the wizard replied. “But please, be careful. I know I keep saying that, and I know that you're aware of the danger, but I wouldn't want to think that anyone got hurt on my account.”

  The paladin laughed lightly.

  “Life is risk, my friend. You above all others should know that. We'll be fine.”

  After that conversation, Simon filled his time with practice. He'd found that the more he used a spell, the easier and faster he could cast it. So he spent hours out in the field in front of his tower casting magic missiles at tree stumps. The spell was becoming truly powerful and dozens of the brilliant blue projectiles would appear from his fingertips to slam into his targets now. And he felt little fatigue from each cast. It was a very promising development.

  He also helped Kronk tend to the horses. Both of the mares, Tammy and Sunshine, and the stallion Chief, were feeling frisky, which Simon attributed to the early spring weather. He rubbed the three of them down after they spent the afternoon outside and then fed and watered them, over the earthen's objections. Kronk really enjoyed caring for the trio and they had an obvious bond with the little guy, following him docilely wherever he led them and moving out of the way when he cleaned their stalls.

  In the evening, Simon and Kronk sat in front of the fire, chatting companionably about the state of the world, how his casting was improving and many other things. As the wizard had noticed long ago, the little earthen was very deep and had countless years of knowledge behind him, and letting him speak his mind, especially when Aeris wasn't around to criticize him, was always a fascinating experience.

  The second day was much like the first, except that the wizard left large swatches of burnt grass across the wide field. He was fine tuning his Fireball spell and managed to scare the hell out of every bird within hearing distance as the balls of fire slammed into the earth with shuddering bangs.

  Kronk watched anxiously from the safety of the wall, along with his five earthen companions. Simon was amused when he squinted across the field to see the little guy with both hands over his mouth, wide-eyed.

  “Don't worry. I'm not going to fry myself,” he shouted at them at one point.

  “That's very reassuring, master. Thank you,” Kronk called back. He didn't sound very certain of that though and Simon chuckled to himself.

  Just after dinner, while the wizard was washing the dishes and Kronk was outside getting some more logs for the fire, a loud bang from over his head told Simon that Aeris had returned.

  He hurried to finish cleaning up and was drying the last dish when the air elemental flew down the stairs.

  “I'm back,” he said cheerfully as he floated over to the kitchen table.

  “So I heard,” Simon replied. “Did you have a good time?” he added with a mischievous grin.

  “Very funny, my dear wizard,” Aeris said dryly. “It was as calm, normal and predictable as it's always been. Horrible.”

  He shuddered theatrically.

  Simon walked to the table and sat down just as the front door banged open and Kronk skittered in, carrying a half-dozen logs in his arms. Since he couldn't even be seen under the load, it looked like the pile of logs was floating by itself.

  “Let me give you a hand, Kronk,” the wizard said quickly, starting to rise.

  “I have it, master. Not to worry.”

  Since Simon knew how incredibly strong the little guy was, he wasn't too concerned. Once Kronk reached the far side of the fireplace, he dumped the logs with a crash and then quickly piled them neatly.

  He turned back to the table and spotted Aeris hovering just above it.

  “Oh, you're back,” he said as he hopped up to stand near the air elemental.

  “You've always been quick, Kronk,” Aeris replied with his usual sarcasm.

  “Stop that,” Simon told him. “Now, any luck getting us some information about staves and how wizards used them?”

  By the smug look on the cloudy little face, the wizard was sure that he knew the answer.

  “As a matter of fact, yes. Aethos was much more approachable than I had thought he would be. You were right, by the way. When he heard that you had disposed of Heather after her attack on me, he was very pleased.”

  “Excellent. I was hoping he would be, although she really left me no choice. Given a chance, I would have spared her life.”

  “If you ever speak to Aethos again, I'd suggest you don't mention that. So, the staff. Where is it?”

  He looked around as he asked, but the staff was nowhere to be seen.

  Simon also glanced around and frowned.

  “That's weird. I thought I had left it beside the door, where I used to leave Bene-Dunn-Gal.”

  “You did, master,” Kronk said brightly. He hopped down to the floor and hurried across the room to the large wooden cabinet where the wizard kept his outerwear and shoes.

  “I was cleaning yesterday and moved it in here out of the way,”

  He opened the cabinet, pulled out the staff and returned it to Simon.

  “Thanks Kronk.”

  The wizard lay the staff across the table and looked at Aeris inquiringly.

  “So, now what?”

  “Err, well, according to Aethos, there's a small ritual that the old wizards used to bind their staves to them, allowing them to channel their spells through the weapons.” Aeris looked at the staff speculatively. “He said that even he doesn't know why a staff or wand can do that, by the way. Whether it is because they are made of a certain kind of wood, or their shape.”

  “I believe it may be both,” Kronk told him. “I used ash because I remember it was popular back in the days of magic. Many wizards used it for their staves.”

  Simon rubbed the staff, enjoying the smoothness of the wood.

  “Well, I suppose we don't really need to know why it works, as long as it does. So, you mentioned a ritual?” he said to Aeris.

  “Yes. Right. So, it sounds a little primitive, to be quite honest, but Aethos claims that it works.” He hesitated. “You have to inscribe the staff with your true name.” He paused again and added, “In blood.”

  “What?” Kronk said weakly.

  “Are you kidding?” the wizard asked, almost laughing. He sobered as he saw that the air elemental was serious. “You're not kidding.”

  “I'm afraid not. Like I said, it sounds primitive to me. But that is what he told me. You will know that it worked if the name fades as the blood is absorbed into the body of the staff. If it does not, the weapon is not properly made and cannot be used as a wizard's focus.”

  “That is so weird,” Simon muttered, touching the staff again. He ran his fingers along its length. “It sounds like voodoo or something.”

  “What is voodoo, master?” Kronk asked curiously.

  “Hmm? Oh, nothing. A kind of religion, I think. Rumor had it that they used blood in their rites.”

  He picked up the staff and walked to the stairs.

  “Come on. I want to use my study for this 'ritual'.”

  They went upstairs and into the study. Simon crossed to his work table. Among the assorted pencils, pieces of chalk and charcoal and scraps of paper, were several sewing needles. He liked to patch tears in his clothing next to the window at the table and left needles and thread on it.

  He picked up a needle and went to sit at his desk.

  “Okay, I agree on the weirdness factor, but if Aethos says that this is what has to be done, I'm willing to give it a shot.”

  Kronk looked at Aeris and pointed at the door. The other elemental nodded and they both headed for the exit.

  “Hey guys, where are you going?”

  They stopped at the door and looked back at Simon.

  “First rule of elemental servants, my dear wizard,” Aeris said with a wry smile. “Never learn your master's true name. And yes, I know. You aren't our master, at least in your own mind. But the rule holds. Call us back in when you're
done.”

  Kronk gave the wizard a quick wink and they both left.

  Simon heard the earthen's rocky feet tip-tapping down the stairs and shook his head.

  I don't know if I'll ever understand them, he thought. Not totally, anyway.

  He stared at the staff. It seemed to glow in the sunlight shining through the window behind him.

  “Okay, nameless staff,” he murmured to it. “Let's see if this works.”

  Simon pressed his lips together and pricked his forefinger. A bead of blood slowly built up on it and, before it dripped off, he began to slowly write on the staff, across its length.

  “v...a...l...a...g...a...r,” he said aloud as he wrote each letter. He had to squeeze his finger twice to coax out more blood to finish writing his real name.

  When he was done, Simon sat back and sucked on his finger as he stared at the crooked, bloody letters. Nothing happened.

  “Well,” he said to the staff. “Are you going to do something or what?”

  A silence dropped over the room. The sounds of birdsong from outside became muted and Simon felt like his ears were stuffed with cotton.

  “What?” he whispered. He couldn't hear his own voice.

  And then he watched with wide eyes as the bloody letters seemed to sink into the wood of the staff. The length turned a bright, wet red for an instant and then the white ash body glowed with a blinding light.

  Simon squinted through sudden tears at the staff. He felt pain, a sharp stab in his chest that drew a gasp from his lips and then...it was over.

  The staff lay innocently on his desk, just a length of wood. The wizard watched it suspiciously, as if it were a sleeping snake that might strike at any time.

  “Guy? Hey guys!” he yelled. “You can come back up now.”

  In a moment, he heard Kronk jumping up the steps again and Aeris shot back into the study just ahead of the little earthen.

  They both settled on top of the desk and looked closely at the staff.

  “Did it work, master?”