Diary of a Conjurer (27 page)

“Your life is important too,” one of the
Xylonites said.

“Perhaps it is. Maybe my purpose in life is
for this moment, to be a decoy for you so that the world will be
saved.”

Several of the Xylonites sat on the ground
next to her with long faces.

“Leave me here, and I’ll distract Hacatine as
long as I can while you gain distance. I don’t mind. I found
telling her off somewhat enjoyable. Can you see her? Or any of her
warrior women?”

“I see no one. Just the empty skiff.” Silvio
peered over the log again.”

“I’ll step out there where she can see me as
soon as you’re on your way. Maybe it will draw her back to the
beach.”

“We won’t let you risk it. We won’t let you
succumb to her violence!” Xylepher drew his miniature sword. She
laughed.

“You’re very kind. But if we don’t do
something risky now, the whole world will succumb to her violence.
That includes your families, and all the good people that live in
the northern lands.”

Silvio’s heart sank because she was speaking
the truth. Her plan made sense. “You may be right, but I don’t like
it one bit. Not one.” Silvio kicked at the sand, his anxiety
gaining the best of him.

“There’s no other choice right now. And the
more we sit here discussing it, the farther away Ivar is running,
and the closer Hacatine is to him.”

Several of the Xylonite women offered to stay
with Promise, and two of the young men swore they’d find food for
her and keep her safe.

“This won’t be easy.” Silvio grunted and took
a long look at the woman. How could he leave this helpless lot
alone? A blind girl and five little people vulnerable to the
wild.

“Go, Silvio. Go and save the world from the
evil powers of a wicked queen.” Promise, as blind as she was, had
no way of seeing the tear that dripped from Silvio’s eye down his
cheek. With a strong drawing of his breath he turned away. Xylepher
stood ahead of him with his troops, men, women and children, ready
to take on their enemy.

Silvio sighed and with a heavy heart said,
“What must be, must be. Hurry then!” He commanded the Xylonites
with a wave of his hands.

Escape

Deep in the woods, high in a cedar tree, Ivar
had an advantage over his predator, for he could see the coast, any
seafaring traveler on the horizon, and enough of the trail below.
He hooked the black case over the knob of a tree limb and shimmied
to the ground. Stripping the red, stringy, bark from the cedar,
with nimble fingers accustomed to craft, Ivar twisted the fiber
into a long sturdy rope. He then wove a platform of fir limbs,
securing it with fiber from dogbane and other brush. Once it was
strong enough to hold his body, he hoisted it into the tree. Laying
the platform across the dense cedar branches, camouflaged by the
thick fragrant boughs, Ivar fastened the deck in place, grabbed the
black case and climbed onto the ledge, sitting cross-legged.

Alone and safe, he could now explore this
peculiar box. Ever since he had looked deep into Promise’s eyes and
gained her insight, his curiosity about this black case and the
strangers who carried it, peaked his curiosity. He snapped the
hinge open, closed his eyes in meditation and willed for the power
to remember how to turn it on.

A sunny day on the ocean, the ship rocked as
sails flapped in the breeze. A man, pudgy with wrinkled skin, a
curly beard and beady eyes, held a cup in his hand. He leaned over
the shoulder of a boy who held a box just like Ivar’s. The child’s
agile fingers moved over the keys, scrolling until the screen
turned blue.

Ivar touched a button on the side of the
case and the inside lit up revealing a vertical line that pulsated
in a box. He fingered the keys without even thinking, as though he
had been doing it all his life. The screen went dark and then lit
up again, turning a bright blue. Ivar touched another key and the
screen turned gray, and then all kinds of symbols appeared. He
watched with amazement as the verbiage filled the screen. Seeing
the symbols took him back to another place, another time.

“
To do this job, you must learn anglais.
Then I will speak to you in anglais so it comes easy for you.” The
teen yanked the boy by his arm so that the child fell on the steps.
“Ouch, Andre. It hurts!” the younger boy complained and tried to
free himself.

“
Shut up, or I’ll take it all away from
you. Even your life!” the teen said. “This will be your job. If you
want to live here, you’ll do this. Understand? Daryl?”

The teen slapped the boy on his head. Daryl
nodded.

“
Don’t play dumb. This is what they pay us
for. Watch me.” Andre sat next to him, putting the laptop on his
knees. He punched the keyboard with his middle finger, speaking
slowly as the letters appeared on the screen. “This is how you’ll
write your email. Like this: ‘Dear madam.’ Always say madam or sir.
That’s proper anglais.”

Daryl nodded.

Andre kept typing. “‘You don’t know me but I
speak to you because I am ill, and I will die soon. I need your
help.’”

“
You are ill?” Daryl asked.

“
No, birdbrain.” Andre pushed his elbow
into the boy’s ribs. “That’s what you say in the letter to make
them sad for you, then they’ll send money.”

“
They send me money?”

“
No. They send money to our boss. He pays
us. I’ll teach you all the letters to write. If you want to stay
with me in the shack, this is how you’ll work. Otherwise you’ll
sleep in the woods. The bears will eat you.”

Ivar remembered the jabs and the
name-calling and how much he wanted to be like Andre. He even
remembered the email now, and some of the alphabet letters that
were on the screen in front of him he could actually read. He
closed his eyes. The world of the past entered his mind.

Daryl ran up the trail to the shanty,
anxious to show Andre the fish he had speared that morning. It was
his biggest catch ever. But when he skipped the first step and
jumped on the porch dread overwhelmed him. Large pieces of scrap
wood were nailed over the door, and a lock hung from the knob. The
windows were boarded.

He threw his catch on the porch and ran to
the back. Though the screen door had been nailed shut, he was able
to break the window and crawl inside. His and Andre’s clothes were
spewed all over the floor. Everything they owned had been rummaged
through, and the computer was gone. All of their treasures were
gone. Andre was gone.

Ivar didn’t feel well; the
memory left him dizzy. This recollection was not a good one. It was
too much like the one he had on the beach.
It was me. That boy Daryl, that was me!
He stared at the blank screen. No wonder Amleth and Aren
didn’t want him to remember.

Another picture appeared when he ran his
fingers over the keyboard. Stars moved across the screen in
complicated patterns. This was the same image that had been on
Lyle’s box the other night. Ivar’s hands glowed yellow and green as
he punched the keys unconsciously, igniting another memory in his
mind.

“
Here it is,” Daryl laughed. Several men surrounded him as
they watched the mouse jump across the screen. “We did it. We broke
the code.”

“
Good boy, lad,” the captain said,
slapping him on the back. “We’ll keep you around for a while,” he
joked. Daryl grinned as the captain turned to the pudgy man. “Those
Americans will never know what hit their computers.”

“
Aye, then, are we going in?” Adrian
asked.

“
As long as there’s gold to be had and
guns to move, you can bet your whiskers we’re going in.”

Before Ivar clicked another button he
hesitated and looked up. The day was clear, not a cloud in the sky.
The warmth of the sun cooked the scent of evergreen from the boughs
he hid behind. However, despite the sultry atmosphere, the quiet
seclusion, Ivar’s hands trembled. The energy inside him rumbled
like thunder announcing a storm.

He wet his lips with his tongue and looked
at the screen again. The stars flashed in time to the beat of his
heart. It was an exciting sensation, blood rushed through his veins
with power. Silvio and Promise’s power. He hit the button and a
flash of light brightened the sky for a second. Thunder rolled
overhead and the sun disappeared behind a colossal storm.

Just exactly what he had done, he had no way
of knowing, but he laughed at the thrill of it. The dagger blazed a
trail in his mind’s eye, and then he saw her. The queen. Hacatine,
plain as day, up so close he could feel her breathe.

“Ivar,” she said. “I’m so glad I found you,
again.”

Stunned, Ivar sat motionless.

“Come meet me on the beach this afternoon. I
have a proposition for you.”

“
Have nothing to do with wickedness,
Ivar,” Aren had said.

The air turned humid, an overwhelming heat.
Yet that wasn’t the only reason Ivar sweated. He wasn’t the least
bit curious about Hacatine’s proposition. He didn’t trust her, not
after what she had done to him on the ship. But here she was in his
head. If she had this sort of power to find him, there’d be no way
he could hide from her, or escape her cunning.

“What?” He paused, not sure if she could
hear. “What if I met you? Would you imprison me again?”

As soon as he spoke, she appeared on his
platform, sitting across from him. Though terrified, he had to know
if she were real. He reached out to touch her but his hand moved
through the vision.

She laughed. “No, Ivar, dear child, I’m not
really sitting in your little tree house. Just like Promise wasn’t
really walking on the beach this morning. It’s all a trick just to
confuse you. However, I do know where you are.”

“How do you know?”

Her grin grew wide. “We have a mutual lens.
Your dear Promise opened the door for me.”

“Promise?” Ivar didn’t mean for his voice to
tremble. “Is she–is she safe?”

Hacatine laughed. “What do you mean by
safe?”

Ivar clammed, his lips sealed. Maybe he
shouldn’t talk about Promise to Hacatine.

“And no, in answer to your question, I’m not
going to imprison you. I could, in fact, use your services.”

“What services?”

A gentle breeze swept through the tree house
bearing the fragrance of the North Wind.

“I can’t explain now, it would take too long.
I’ll tell you when we meet later this afternoon, on the beach. And
Ivar,” she waited for his response. When he didn’t answer her, she
continued. “Pay no mind to the wind chimes, dear. Think about it.
Have they really helped you? Really?” She vanished as branches
swayed in a sudden gust.

Alarm

The heavy cloud that had suddenly appeared
in the west weighed on the atmosphere like steam rolling out of a
kettle. Silvio made it halfway up the hill and had to stop from
lack of breath. Xylepher and the others were already in the forest.
But the sweat that ran down Silvio’s face and his pulsating heart,
defeated the old man. He found the shadow of a boulder to rest
by.

It wasn’t just the heat, either, that held
him back. The responsibility he felt for the helpless blind girl
and the five little people he left behind pulled on his emotions.
Sure

she was a sorceress; but a sorceress with no
power, nothing, no sight at all, vulnerable to the elements. The
little people would have a hard time getting Promise down into a
tunnel if this storm let loose. And on top of the ground the
Xylonites would drown, wash away into the sea, no doubt, or be
crushed by falling timber.

The wizard wiped his brow and looked above
at the white shelf hanging over the stony path. A lone pine reached
out across the way, its roots buried in the cranny of a rock. Bits
of sunlight still peeked through the moving clouds, blasting heat
on his forehead, only lasting for a second and then disappearing
behind the thunderhead. How far would Xylepher go before he
realized the old man had fallen behind? Silvio grumbled to himself.
His moans were answered by voices up above.

“Get the King!” “King Silvio!” and “The sea,
sir. Look!”

Their tiny voices rang out like chimes as
the Xylonites called out. Xylepher ran along the edge of the bluff
calling Silvio’s name. Silvio waved and Xylepher spotted him

“Ships, sir; lots of them. Hundreds. The
queen is moored nearby but there are more ships on the
horizon.”

Silvio peeled his hair from his cracked lips
and waited for Xylepher to continue.

“Not just a few. A fleet!” The man could
barely hold still. His excitement had him jumping, and twitching,
and carrying on in an awful frenzy.

“Where are they coming from?” Silvio
asked.

“From the East, it looks like they’re coming
from Taikus.”

“Good Golblunkers, fellow, hold still and
talk to me. Are they sailing in this direction?”

After Xylepher ran toward the bluff and
looked out over the ocean, his hand shading his eyes, he stumbled
back again, and called out his answer. “No, sir.”

“Well, where are they headed, then?”

“North sir, they’re headed for Menek, for
Kaempern.”

The news was not good. A fleet of Hacatine’s
ships headed for the Northlands could only mean war. Perhaps it
also meant she had the last of the wizard’s magic. Perhaps she had
captured Ivar.

Already the Xylonites were running back to
Xylepher from however far they had traveled into the woods, walking
along the edge of the bluff looking for Silvio no doubt. Looking
for guidance, too, and for direction. Silvio hated when the little
people panicked, and given a few more moments without him, they’d
been uncontrollable.