Foundling Wizard (Book 1) (22 page)

He tried kicking and slapping his hands against the lid and sides of his prison, but nothing helped. “Help!” he yelled. “Is anybody out there?”

He called and called until his voice gave out. Finally, exhausted, Lorit lay quietly and listened. There was no sound. It was utterly silent. As he concentrated, he could hear the sound of his own heart beating, and the whistle of his breathing, but nothing more.

He relaxed and reached out with his senses again. He tried to find the thread of Zhimosom or Rotiaqua that he'd felt just the night before. There was nothing, only quiet and emptiness. He could feel nothing of the Wizard and the Sorceress.

He jostled around until he was on his stomach. He arched his back and pressed with all his might against the cover, groaning under the strain, but to no avail. It remained motionless.

He probed around inside his prison. His pack was jammed down below his feet. He felt around with his foot until he was able to get one foot underneath the pack. He lifted it until it hit the lid of his prison. He rolled his foot back and forth wiggling the pack forward between his leg and the lid. Slowly, bit by bit, the pack edged forward. Often losing more ground than he'd made, he kept the effort up, until he was able to reach the pack with his hand.

Suddenly, he felt a sharp, burning pain slice across his chest. His hand flew up to touch his skin. It was uninjured. The pain struck again, and again he could discern no injury to his body. Somehow, the pain reminded him of Onolt. He reached out with his senses, feeling for her. That closeness they shared had remained with him even as he got farther and farther from home.

Onolt was in distress. The pain he was experiencing was hers. He reached out for her, but whatever had him trapped was also impeding his efforts. It dulled his magic. He was only able to share her pain. He was powerless to stop it, or even lend her comfort.

He struggled against the bonds, but it only seemed to make things worse. The more he fought, the fuzzier things got. He felt the pain and agony of each cut. He screamed in agony bearing the pain worse than the priest had caused with his magic. It grew in intensity until Lorit thought he could stand it no longer.

Suddenly, there was a sharp tug at his chest and the pain vanished.

He fought his bonds with all his strength until, exhausted, he fell into a troubled sleep.

Lorit did not know how long he'd been out this time. He felt around his prison, but nothing had changed. He reached out, looking for the connection he had with Onolt. There was nothing there.

He gave up and allowed the exhaustion to take him once again. He didn’t know how long he was out. Lorit felt as if he’d slept for days. He reached out again. This time he caught the thread of someone. It felt like Onolt, only different, subtler, yet more powerful. He grasped it with his renewed energy and willed the connection to strengthen. As it grew stronger, Lorit began to get the impression of Chihon. He tried to call out to her, but was unable to reach her. He dropped his head against the cold stone in frustration, falling into that troubled sleep once more.

Lorit wondered how long he’d been trapped here. What had happened to Chihon while he was out of touch? He was worried about her and reached out to try to sense her again. He felt a slight hint of her presence, but nothing substantial. It was just an after image as if he'd looked at her, then quickly looked away.

The simple expenditure of effort left him exhausted and tired. He reached into the pack, broke a piece of bread and carefully raised it to his mouth. It took an effort for him to make enough saliva to soften the bread, but he was finally able to swallow a small portion after working diligently at it. Even this small piece seemed to re-energize him and encourage him to persevere.

Soon, he'd consumed the whole loaf of bread, and finished almost all of the hard, sour cheese. Thirst was going to be one of his problems if he did not escape soon.

Lorit relaxed again and reached out his senses, trying to recapture the hint of Chihon he’d experienced before. At first, it was just the vague feeling of her presence, but as he concentrated, she became more pronounced.

After a while, he could make out her face. She was sitting on a straw mattress in a small bedchamber. Lorit could see the table in front of her, where a single candle glowed. A pot of water sat next to a battered copper cup, which rested atop a threadbare towel.

Chihon sat on the edge of the bed, staring into the candle. Her eyes were swollen and full of tears. She looked gaunt and thin, as if she hadn't slept or eaten in days. Lorit reinforced the link, taking it slowly. When he exerted himself, the image faded and became faint. Patiently, he focused his attention on her. Her face became more tangible, clearer, more real.

Her brow wrinkled. “Lorit?” she whispered. “Is that you?” She sat forward, getting closer to the table and the glowing candle. Her movement startled Lorit and almost caused him to lose the contact, but he managed to hang on.

“It’s me,” he answered. She didn’t respond. She couldn’t hear him. “It’s ME!” he shouted again.

She tilted her head, directing her attention towards the candle. “Lorit?” she called out.

“I’m here!” he shouted.

“Lorit!” she cried. She remained seated this time, but was visibly relieved to hear his voice. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. I’m stuck in some kind of crypt. I can feel the stone sides and cover. I can’t get out,” he told her. “Where are you?”

“I woke up, and you were gone.” She reached behind her and pulled out his staff. “I knew you hadn’t run off on your own. Your staff was still where you slept, only you were gone.”

“How long have I been gone?”

She clutched the staff as if it were supporting her. “Almost three weeks.”

“Three weeks!” he exclaimed. “I’ve been here three weeks?”

“I searched for you for two days. Then I headed into town to find a place to stay so I could keep searching for you. I‘ve been everywhere. I talked to everyone I could trust.” She waved her hand in the air in front of her face. “I’ve even been visited by the images of a sorceress. She asked me about you.”

“Was she an old Sorceress with a sarcastic sense of humor?” he asked. He recalled the wry smile of Rotiaqua and remembered how she’d wanted to meet Chihon.

“She was. She showed me how to sense you and open a path for you to contact me. I am so relieved to finally get in touch with you,” Chihon continued. “I was going out of my mind with worry.”

“Well, we still have a little problem. I have no idea where I am, or how to get out of here.”

“Let me try something.” Chihon stood and grasped his staff. She strained as if she were gazing intently at something that was unclear. “I can see the outside of the crypt, just a little. It’s hazy and indistinct.”

“Can you make out any markings that would tell you where I am?”

“No, nothing,” she said. She wrinkled her brow again and concentrated. “Wait. I can make out a crest on the lid. There are crossed swords resting on a shield. I can’t make out what’s on the shield, though.”

“That’s OK,” he consoled her. “Can you get a sense of where I am? Which direction?”

“No, I can’t. Lorit. Maybe North, though I can’t be sure. I am sorry, I’m no help at all.” He could see the tears welling up in her eyes. The effort was tiring, and Lorit knew she was heavily taxed.

“Get some sleep,” he told her. “I’m exhausted, too. Let me rest. We can try again when we’re both rested.”

“Lorit, I’m so worried,” she said. “What if we can’t get back in touch with you?”

“Don’t worry, I can feel you very strongly now. I’m sure we’ll be able to get back in touch. Maybe after a little rest. Maybe then you’ll be able to sense where I am.”

He released the link to her, and let the fatigue he felt pull him down, down into that deep, dark and dreamless sleep.

It was early evening and Chihon sat down to search for Lorit as she had every evening since his disappearance. She’d caught the sense of him before. It was tenuous and fragile, but unmistakably Lorit.

She reached out with her senses, probing for his thread. She could sense him much more strongly now. It seemed to be growing over time. At first, she felt nothing and then, subtly it came to her. She felt excitement tonight. She could almost feel the thread thicken. It took on a sense of direction that pointed her toward the north side of the city.

She slowly grew more and more aware of Lorit. He was barely awake. “Lorit?” she called out. “Is that you?”

She tilted her head listening for his response. She could hear nothing. “Lorit?” she called again.

This time, a muted reply came back, “It’s me,” he answered.

“Lorit?” she called out, listening intently for his response.

“I’m here.”

“Lorit,” she cried. “What happened?”

He explained his predicament. He was trapped in a crypt, barely able to move. Before he could say much, she lost the connection. Lorit said he needed to rest, but she could never rest, not now she’d found him. He sounded so weak; she couldn’t allow any further delay.

She ran into the kitchen shouting, “I found him!”

Gareb came out of the bedroom first; he rubbed his eyes and peered at her.

“I found him!” she said. “He’s trapped. We need to go save him!”

“Who?” Gareb asked. “Who did you find?”

“Lorit!” she said. “I found Lorit. Who else?”

Gareb rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “You found Lorit?” He looked at her again, his eyes slowly focusing in on her face.

“You found Lorit!” he exclaimed. “Where is he?”

“I don’t know. He is in a crypt somewhere. I could feel the thread heading north.”

“North? That’s where the cemetery’s located.” He stumbled into the kitchen and flopped into a chair at the table. “Are you sure you know where he is?”

“Not exactly,” she said, “but I can feel his thread. It’s stronger now. I can feel where it leads. I know we can find him.”

Chihon pulled at Gareb’s arm. Lorit needed help as soon as possible. They needed to get under way immediately.

“Wait a minute,” Gareb said. “I have to get dressed first.”

Chihon looked down at herself. She was still dressed in her night gown. “Maybe I should dress, too,” she said and headed back to the guest room.

They made their way through the pre-dawn streets. The chill morning air was biting and cold, but the faint glow in the east promised a sunrise soon enough. When they arrived at the cemetery, the gate was locked, barring access. Chihon grasped the lock in her hand and muttered the spell she'd memorized for unlocking and releasing. The lock snapped apart and the gate swung noisily open.

She stood still, reaching for the thread that linker her to Lorit. It had grown stronger and weaker as he came awake and fell asleep, but it still indicated which direction they should go. They made their way through town quietly so as not to wake the citizens until they arrived at the old cemetery.

The crypts in this section of the cemetery were made of polished marble and granite. They stood against the ravages of time, a testament to the ancients who had crafted them to honor their dead. The thread guided her to a remarkably solid looking marble structure. The early morning light just barely illuminated it as she stood before it. Chihon grasped Lorit’s staff in one hand. With the other, she traced the symbols and engraving on the crypt.

“These are ancient magic,” Gareb said, looking over her shoulder. “They’re stronger than I am. I don’t think I could break through them.”

Chihon stood before the doors. She pulled on the brass handle but the solid marble doors refused to budge.

“Aperire et me transire” she said in her most commanding voice, summoning her powers as she commanded the doors to open.

Nothing. They stayed firmly shut.

“Posuit vinctum liberum”, she intoned, commanding the doors to set the captive Lorit free.

Still nothing happened. She tried several more spells, but none of them had any effect on the heavy doors.

She sat down heavily, with her back to the massive marble doors that refused to budge. She fought back tears of frustration. She felt for the link. She could feel it reach through the doors and into the crypt, just a few spans away from where she sat.

She could see the inside of the crypt with rows of marble tombs sitting side by side. She knew where Lorit lay in the interior of the crypt. She had to find a way to reach him, to rescue him.

Suddenly, she found herself in the darkness. She was still seated with her back against the massive marble doors. “Gareb,” she said softly. “What happened?”

When he didn’t answer, she hazarded a small illumination spell that showed she was on the inside of the crypt. She could sense Lorit even stronger now.

She stood up and reached out for the doors. There was a brass handle on the inside of the door. She pulled it, but the door didn’t budge.

She crawled over to the tomb that held Lorit. She could sense him inside, but he was somehow masked. The tomb felt as if it were wrapped in a blanket of intertwining ropes. They barred her senses from reaching him.

She tried to move the lid, but it was too heavy. It wouldn’t budge. She walked back to the door and pressed her face close to the seam between the doors. “Gareb?” she called. “Can you hear me?”

“I can hear you.”

“I can’t move the lid. It’s too heavy!”

“How did you get inside?”

“I just felt the link, and suddenly I was inside.”

“Try to open the doors from the inside,” he instructed her.

“I did,” she said, “they don’t open from the inside either.”

“Did you try magic on them?”

She sat there, stunned for a moment. She had assumed that since magic hadn’t worked from the outside it wouldn’t work from the inside either. She stood before the doors, gripping Lorit’s staff in her hand. She extended her free hand, palm towards the doors.

“Aperire et me transire”, she called out. She could feel the power rise in her, focus through the staff and it wash against the door.

The doors creaked and moved slightly. She brandished the staff at the doors again and shouted “Da me libertatem per”, commanding them to open and allow her through. This time she pushed hard to put all of her power into the spell. The doors shuddered and opened slightly letting a crack of sunlight fall across her face.