Knights of the Wizard (of Knights and Wizards Book 2) (25 page)

SEVENTY

MARCUS FOUND HIMSELF INSIDE THE BOOK. In front of him was a stone path with the occasional red glowing stone within it, twisting down to the left towards an attractive cottage. A brook followed the trail, gurgling at the point where the water flowed over green mossy rocks. Behind him was nothing, like a blank page of a book; he reached out and touched it and it felt like the finest parchment. Words in an unknown language hung in the sky in different areas, although he did spot his own name
Marcus
that looked to be stuck to a cloud. His brief life as a wizard was already a fascinating one.

He followed the path towards the cottage when he noticed an ugly buzzard flying overhead, it transformed into a beautiful toucan and flew off, and as he looked to his left he saw tall man staring at him with his arms crossed, wearing a hat with a feather in it and a long white robe. He looked to be so ancient that his wrinkles appeared to have wrinkles. He gestured for Marcus to approach him.

“You are Marcus of Leeander?” Astowyth asked.

“I am.”

“I am Astowyth. You seek to transform the book from malevolent spells to benevolent incantations?”

Marcus wasn’t sure what he was up to, couldn’t really guess if his intentions were bad or good. “I guess so.”

Astowyth was instantly annoyed. “There is no guessing here, you either do or you don’t. Which is it?”

“Yes I want the spells to be for the good. Am I inside the book?”

“My boy I should have thought that was obvious. Follow me.”

Marcus followed Astowyth inside the cottage where he discovered twelve expressionless gentlemen with beards of various lengths sitting around a floating square table top with no legs. Astowyth took his place at the table and gestured for the Marcus to approach. There was lots of light in there even though there was no visible light source, and no windows although there had been on the outside.

“He’s the one that’s producing the knights,” said one fellow to another.

Malcowyth stood up and examined Marcus with a critical eye. “I’m Malcowyth, I lived many years ago. I’m curious Marcus; do you realize where you are pulling those knights from?”

Marcus thought that Malcowyth had amazing brown eyes, exceptional. “No sir. I’m asleep when I conjure them. Don’t know how to do it when I’m awake.”

Malcowyth nodded as he played with his beard, whispered to the fellow next to him. “They’re spirits that you are crossing over from the other side, knights from centuries ago. They are happy to be able to battle once again and that’s all right I suppose. All good so far but eventually you will pull out an evil one.”

Marcus was surprised to learn that he was pulling souls from the other side. “How will I know when one is evil?”

“It will either be black or grey I would imagine.”

Marcus envisaged an evil knight with such power but hopefully the other knights would be able to take care of a single knight. “What should I do if I conjure one?”

“You should run,” said Astowyth. He strummed his fingers on the table as he read the boy’s expression. “But in all seriousness you need to learn a binding spell as soon as possible, one that will endure at least a hundred years. The spirit will get tired of waiting and simply return to the netherworld.”

Marcus nodded. “Okay. Why am I inside this book?”

Astowyth played with his long beard. “Oh yes the trials. You will have three trials and should you fail you will be trapped in here with us forever.”

This wizard business was starting to become a pain in the butt. “What? Why?”

“We need to know that you are worthy. With the knowledge from this book you will be the most powerful sorcerer in the world.” Astowyth nodded to the fellow next to him who returned the nod.

Something didn’t quite mesh to Marcus. “Then why did you allow Nydarien have the book?”

Astowyth shook his head. “Nydarien tricked us. He came in here with foreknowledge of the trials and under a cloaking spell that made him appear virtuous. He wasn’t born evil you know; his selfishness slowly led him down that path. All wizards just like non-wizards have the potential for good and evil. We need to see that the potential for good in you far outweighs the bad.”

“And if I refuse the trials?”

Astowyth smiled. “Well we’ll just make room for you here at the table. We’re all wizards in here Marcus and all these others have failed the test. You’ll grow old just like the rest of us and then you’ll stop aging. Not such a bad place I suppose but not so easy to get to another page.”

Marcus shook his head as there were too many variables for him. “That’s not much of a choice. Do the trials and fail and be stuck here forever or don’t do them and be stuck here forever. So how do I do these stupid trials?”

Astowyth stared at the boy. “Simply exit through the back door and continue on the path. Should you perish your soul will simply move on.”

“You mean I can die in here?” Marcus headed directly for the back door. “Yeah, yeah perish whatever. Trapped in here forever with a dozen old farts, that should be fun. I should have been a carpenter instead of a stupid sorcerer.” The boy was tired and of course worried that he would have to spend eternity trapped in this book. If all those others couldn’t complete the trial what chance did he have? He slammed the door as he exited back out onto the path.

Marcus had walked for a short distance when he noticed something particularly strange; darkness cut across the stone path, one side was day and the other night. He walked to the edge of it and stopped, imagined being inside a book that most likely anything was possible. If he had a writing instrument he might be able to write his way out of here and he smiled at the idea. He stepped across the light/dark boundary several times, a bit hard on the eyes as they adjusted from light to dark, finally continuing along the path he could see stars overhead, now wary of walking on the path at night. Was something going to jump out at him? He continued to hear the gurgling brook as it followed the path, and then in the distance he could see that it led into a dark cave, a great place for a monster he was sure but since the path went through it he didn’t think he had a choice.

Suddenly the wizard could feel his wand in his hand, hadn’t felt it before now. “Should I go through the cave?” Marcus asked his wand.

Sorry but I can’t help you in here.

“Why can’t you help me?”

Something or someone is preventing me from doing so.

There were only two choices that he could envision, go through the cave or go back and he had no intention of going back and so he proceeded forward. Immediately upon entering the cave he saw what he could only describe as a hairy monster standing near the cave’s exit, with sharp claws longer than his hands. It was big and ugly with its top teeth halfway down its chin; it had evil looking red eyes with yellow pupils. He aimed his wand at the beast but hesitated, it wasn’t showing any aggression but should he risk simply walking past it? One swipe of those claws would shred him he was sure. Was this one of those stupid trials? And if it was what would be his best course of action? Instinct would have him kill the beast but if that’s what everyone else had done it was probably not the thing to do. How could he walk past it without getting himself killed?

The monster continued to stare at him and then it crossed its arms as if daring him to try and pass, saliva commenced dripping down its teeth and falling noisily into a puddle on the cave floor. Marcus was scared, wishing again that he had Stone’s brave heart instead of what felt like a chicken liver. What would happen if he tried to run his fastest past him? He wasn’t sure why but something was telling him not to run, just as one shouldn’t run from a belligerent dog triggering its instinct to chase.

“I’m just going to walk through,” said Marcus to himself. “I mean you no harm.” His voice was shaky and his heart was pounding. How could he not run from a monster? But he started to walk forward as he began to hum a song and he slowly walked by the hairy monster, anticipating his hairy claws slicing through him but nothing happened and as he exited the cave he looked back at the hairy beast that was moving to the song that he was humming and it made him laugh.

Do not judge by appearance alone
said a voice in his head; he thought it sounded like Astowyth but couldn’t be sure.

Marcus continued down the path where daylight returned, glad to be past the monster but he remained frightened of what he might encounter next.

SEVENTY-ONE

GAVIN AND HELENA moved quietly through the tall golden grass being as quiet as possible, one foot slowly after the other, listening carefully for signs of movement. The 9-year-old twins were brother and sister and usually didn’t get along but when they saw such a fantastic sight they put aside their sibling rivalry to try their best to catch it. It had flown over them catching their attention. They figured what they were pursuing was a product of some wizard’s spell but they wanted it nonetheless, if they could only grab it their father would be so impressed, and maybe it would even cheer him up a little.

“You go that way,” Gavin whispered. “The dragon will hear you coming. Go slow and be quiet for a minute. Then you can and run and maybe he’ll fly towards me.”

“But what if it burns you?” said Helena.

Gavin thought about that but decided that he would take the risk. “I’ll catch him and hold his mouth closed.”

Charox walked through the hay field which was over his head, being hunted by humans of all things. He didn’t know how he would be able to go on like this, a grey dragon that was now so small he couldn’t hurt anyone although he did kill a rat for breakfast. He could hear Helena coming up behind him and knew he was going to have to take to the air; he thought it would be safe in the field so that he could take a nap but it hadn’t turned out that way. He was miserable and would never get used to being this small, so upset he could barely think.

“I got you little dragon,” screamed Helena. And she almost grabbed him but missed.

Gavin stood up and caught the grey dragon out of the air; Charox hit the boy with a face full of fire but it didn’t hurt at all, had about the same effect as warm water, the dragon’s fire now completely useless. “I got him! I got him!”

Helena ran up to her brother holding the dragon. “I want to hold him! He’s so cute! He can be our pet.” She patted the dragon on the head and received a burst of fire for her effort. “His fire doesn’t even hurt. I want to hold him!”

“You can hold him when we get home. I don’t want him to get away.” Gavin ran with the dragon. “Come on let’s go show father!”

 

Several days later Charox was tied up in their backyard surrounded by neighbors who wanted to get a peek at the tiny dragon; he hated the attention and despised being petted. Even his bites weren’t very effective and his powers were proportionate to his size. Helena took the dragon inside to get him away from all the attention so he could take a proper nap; she scratched him under his chin and he liked it.

Some life for a grey dragon
Charox thought. Perhaps if he hadn’t been so hostile he wouldn’t be in his current situation. Nothing mighty about him now and if his mate ever returned she would laugh herself silly. He continued to have thoughts of revenge but no way to accomplish any of them.
That stupid dragon wizard, if I ever get back to normal he’s gonna die a horrible death!
And then Charox closed his eyes and went to sleep.

SEVENTY-TWO

MARCUS CAME UPON A SMALL STRUCTURE in the middle of the stone path with an elaborate metal door; the stone building looked to be made from copies of the same grey rock, not held together by any mortar just balanced one on top of the other. On the door were sixteen square silver panels with different scenes on each one, some flowed into the others but some appeared to be out of place. Some panels had knights, one had a golden sun, others had pieces of a mountain and one had a black dragon. Since the stone structure was on the path it wasn’t difficult to figure out that he had to go through it, perhaps there was something inside that he needed, or maybe simply a test of his faculties. It made sense to go around and simply continue on the path but when he tried to do so the dwelling simply appeared in front of him, and turning to look back where the building should be he discovered it was gone, letting him know that he really did have to go through the stone building.

He tried to open the door but it was locked and as he examined the panels it was obvious that they were in the wrong order, maybe if they were put in their proper places it would unlock the door. One space was empty as if a panel had fallen out. It was after a short period that Marcus began to rearrange the panels, physically pushing them into different positions trying to create a proper picture. He slid one panel into the empty space and then a second. But more than an hour later he was unable to accomplish the task and had become frustrated and felt like he should just give up; he knew he couldn’t surrender but he definitely felt like it. Large sections of the puzzle looked good but some pieces were impossible to place in their proper positions.

“This doesn’t make sense.” He sat and just stared up at the door knowing that he had most of the panels in their proper positions, the black dragon flew over the mountain and the knight on the ground stared up at it. The golden sun appeared to be in its proper position and yet several parts of the sky didn’t appear right.

Adorok appeared. He was translucent as he stared down at the dejected wizard. “Marcus it’s a trick. Three of the panels flip.”

Marcus jumped up. “Adorok! What do you mean they flip?”

Adorok pointed to one of the top panels. “Push against this one. The bottom corner right here.”

And when Marcus pushed the panel flipped and showed another scene on the other side. “That’s cheating! How was anyone supposed to figure that out?” It took him another half hour to locate the other two panels that flipped and to complete the scene, when it was finished he heard a click and the door slowly creaked open. Marcus entered to discover a single room that was filled with ingredients in different size pouches; some as large as buckets and others were quite small.

A colorful parrot flew in through the open door and landed on one of the pouches. “Pick a pouch and only one. Use your head, use your head.” And then the bird squawked.

Marcus stared at the bird as its head bobbed up and down. With no names on any of the magical ingredients how was he supposed to be smart about it? Even if the pouches were marked he probably wouldn’t recognise most of the ingredients. Some of them cast a glow while others sparkled. One medium sized pouch smouldered; he peeked into it and saw tiny black crystals that were emitting an acrid smoke, grinding against one another as if they were alive. The wand was blank as if it had gone to sleep. The largest pouch was red and all the others were in brown leather. He decided to take the large one and headed for the back door which had opened, permitting him to continue down the path but just before he exited he stopped.

“Wait a minute,” Marcus said to himself. “If I want the rarest ingredient it would be the smallest pouch not the largest.” He returned the red container to the table and commenced to search for the smallest, discovering that there were pouches hidden behind others. The smallest was only the size of his thumbnail but he took it nonetheless, containing an unknown orange ingredient. As he exited the back door slammed shut and he could hear the parrot from inside.

“You have chosen prudently. Squawk.”

Marcus could now see a giant parchment in the distance and it was directly across the stone path. He ran to it and found words on it that read:

This is not a door.

Another trick he thought. It might be a door and maybe even the way out; whatever rules governed inside this book were unknown, probably as complicated as magic. He kicked and punched it but even though it was only parchment he couldn’t break through, it moved from his blows but didn’t tear and attempting to rip it from the sides didn’t work either. Marcus blasted it with a bolt of lightning and it ricocheted dangerously close, making the book jump on the table where Brother and the others stood. Marcus looked around hoping to see Adorok but no such luck. He touched the word
This
and discovered that he could move it around, slid it to the left of the parchment and off the edge of the page and watched as it floated to the ground.

 

is not a door

Marcus searched for the word
This
and found it in between two stones, difficult to pick it up but he managed it, stared at it between his thumb and index finger and placed it back on the parchment, sliding it around.

“Another puzzle?” And then he got another idea. He removed the word
not
and then pushed the other words together.

This is a door.

A door opened in the parchment and Marcus walked through and found that he was out of the book and got a hug from Brother.

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