Messenger of the Dark Prophet (The Bowl of Souls: Book Two) (24 page)

“
Master, worry not. I am here to help you
.” The female voice was soothing. “
My children have penetrated these mountains. My voice is strong here. I will find you another leader and prepare him.
”

“That might take too long, my dear. If they get out of hand and the
Battle
Academy
catches wind that they are here, my plans will be set back once again!”

“
The army will not get out of hand. I have other servants here. I will keep them under control until we are ready
.”

The wizard held his head.
“Oh so many setbacks.
Why are there so many? First you lose half your children in the forest.
Marckus
gets himself killed and all the orcs under his command scatter-,”

“
Master, my children are strong again. We grow in many places now. Do not worry yourself. I will take care of things here. You can get back to your other plans
.”

“Yes-yes, my dear you are right.
So many plans to get back to.”

He thrust the eye back into his robes and walked over to
Gerstag’s
body. Mumbling angrily, he rooted around the corpse and pulled a pouch from around its belt. Inside the pouch was another petrified moonrat eye much like the one he carried in his robe.

Ewzad
Vrill
ended the silence spell. He pointed to the nearest orc.

“You, come here.” He thrust the eye into the startled creature’s hands. “Listen to this bauble. A voice will tell you where to take it. Okay?”

The orc held the sphere to his ear and nodded. She was giving it instructions already. It walked towards the town.

“Guards!”
Ewzad shouted. The orcs stepped forward, pale with fear of the wizard. He pointed at Tamboor’s family. “Kill the woman and children. Do it slowly. Oh, and make the ogre and the humans watch. When you are done, I want them brought to my keep. I’m not done with them yet.”

As the orcs followed his request, the wizard waved his strange fingers and a shimmering doorway appeared in the air. Ewzad Vriil stormed back to his keep.

That ogre had truly ruined his day.

Chapter Sixteen

Justan dove out of the way of the small advancing fireball just as it singed the hairs on his arm. As he rolled back to his feet, he tried to force down the excitement in his heart. He had almost blocked it!

“You are cheating, Justan,” Professor Beehn scolded and prepared another spell. “You are not supposed to dodge them. If you get hit then that is just too bad. You need to learn.”

The wizard really seemed to be enjoying himself this afternoon. The sun was high above them in a deep blue sky, but its heat didn’t seem to touch the ground. A cool fall breeze blew across the manicured lawns behind Professor
Beehn’s
new home.

“Try again!” the professor shouted and sent another fist-sized ball of fire streaking towards Justan.

Justan switched to his mage sight and prepared his defenses. Professor Beehn had been trying a new teaching technique for the last two hours. He simply hurled spell after spell until Justan was able to counter them. The Professor had started out with water and paralyzing air spells until Justan began to counter them with relative frequency. Then he started throwing harder stuff.

Usually when defending this kind of attack, a magic user would put up a wall of fire and absorb the spell into it. But since Justan had almost no fire ability at all this was not an option. Another tactic would be to send an attack of the opposing element to counter it. In this case, a student would surround the fireball with ice. However, Justan’s great strength in air and water was made useless for this method because of his lack of offensive magic.

Justan was forced to learn tactics that were normally employed only by advanced students. True defensive spells used negative magic and this was something that most students did not learn until they became wizards.

According to his professors, the trick for Justan was to determine the elements used in the spell being cast on him and use negative magic to pick apart the appropriate elements to either redirect it or dissipate the spell completely. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the timing down yet.

Professor
Beehn's
new fireball roared straight for his chest. Justan threw out his hands instinctively and the fireball struck his palms, blasting them to the side as it exploded, peppering his chest and arms with stinging motes of flame. Justan rolled on the ground, patting at the burning areas with his singed hands.

As he assured himself that the fires were out, he heard a worried cry in his mind.
Justan!
It was Gwyrtha. Once again she had sensed his pain and frustration. It had been two months since she had arrived in the forest outside of the school and she seemed to get bored fairly easily. For entertainment, she tended to spend a lot of time monitoring Justan’s thoughts.

I’m fine
, he sent through the bond.
Really.

Professor Beehn watched Justan sitting in the grass vacant-eyed and sighed.

“That won’t do, Justan. If that fireball had been bigger, you would be dead right now.” He cast a quick air spell that propelled his chair across the short trimmed grass. The well-oiled wheels attached to the chair barely made a squeak. “Here, let me heal those burns so that we can continue.”

Justan
stood,
his robes still smoldering in places, and let the wizard heal the minor burns. He watched the cool energies that flowed into his skin and he breathed a sigh of relief. He really didn’t feel like studying this way anymore.

“Actually Professor, I have some other things I need to attend to. I need to get some studying done before the Elements Tournament tonight and then Master Latva wanted to see me. Can we continue this tomorrow, perhaps?”

The wizard nodded reluctantly. “I suppose, if you must. But tomorrow, you won’t get off so
easil
-.” But Justan had already started running towards the library. “Wait just a minute!”

Justan stopped and turned back with a wince, half expecting another fireball to be hurled at his back. “Yes sir?”

“I wasn’t finished, Justan,” Beehn huffed. “Don’t you know that it is quite rude to run off while a crippled man is still speaking to you?”

Justan chuckled as he walked back towards his powerful friend. “Professor Beehn, for someone who can't use his legs, you are the least crippled person I have ever met.”

The rise of Professor
Beehn’s
magic had occurred suddenly and caused quite a stir within the school. When he had finally told the council of the increase in his magical abilities, everyone was overjoyed to hear of it. He had always been well liked and everybody in the school felt that if anyone deserved to have such powers, he did. However, when he had been tested and the extent of his power became known, many became nervous. He was now nearly as strong as Master Latva. This made him one of the most powerful wizards in the known lands.

There was quite a debate in the school as to how the professor had obtained these powers. Some explained away his development by saying that he was just a late bloomer. Others surmised that the golem had somehow given the powers to him. The theory that made the most sense to Justan was something that Vincent had rambled about in one of his more lucid moments. The gnome had stated quite a few references in the mage histories to
support
his argument. He thought that Professor Beehn had been born with his power just like everyone else, but something inside him was holding it back. It had taken a catastrophic event like the golem attack to make him release it.

Once Wizard Beehn started to learn how to use his new abilities, the council noticed something else that disturbed them. Unlike other wizards, he never seemed to tire. Professor Beehn could use his magic all day without exhausting it and he wasn’t afraid to use it either. Since he didn’t have the use of his legs, he tapped into his powers constantly, always using them to propel himself or move things about. The
Mage
School
had always taught to conserve energy and not just throw it about willfully. The professors were afraid that Beehn was putting forth a bad example.

The professor fixed Justan with a concerned gaze. “Justan, first of all let me tell you that I think the rate of your progress is astounding. No other student in recent memory has grown quite so quickly, and even though in some aspects your desire to learn seems stronger, I have noticed that you have been . . . distracted lately. Is there something I can help you with?”

Justan paused, not sure how to answer. His distractions were different than before. Since his meeting with the prophet, he felt much better about himself and the direction he was going. He had pretty much let the rebellious side of his nature go. He didn’t even carry his bow and arrows around with him anymore.

His recent problems came from other sources. Gwyrtha's arrival to the forest outside the school had made it increasingly harder for him to concentrate. Her thoughts were a constant presence in the back of his mind and though he learned to ignore them most of the time, it wasn't easy. Lately it had gotten worse. She stood outside of the school each night and called out to his mind. She missed him; she wanted to play and frolic with him. Needless to say, he wasn't getting much sleep. What made it even more difficult was that he wanted to be with her too.

The thing that held him back was fear. Justan still had over a year to go in his contract at the school and he worried that it was only a matter of time before either someone found Gwyrtha, or she found a way into the school to see him. Justan knew that he was going to have to sneak out one night and visit her. He had already scouted out a way to do it in fact, but he hadn’t yet got up the nerve. If he was caught leaving the school, she might be found. It was just too risky.

Professor Beehn noted his hesitance to answer and added, “Justan, I know that something is troubling you and I can understand if it is something too private, and you don’t want to talk about it, but I am your friend. Maybe there is something I can do to help.”

Justan almost told the professor everything right there. He really wanted to tell him. He wanted to tell Qyxal as well. He hated keeping such a big secret, but he had made a promise to the elves that he wouldn't tell anyone about Gwyrtha's existence. If only he didn't feel so uncomfortable lying to his friends about it.

 “I am sorry, Professor.” He brought up something else that was on his mind instead. “You see, I heard that the council is planning on making me an apprentice.”

“Really?
You’ve heard about that?” Beehn raised his eyebrows. “
Hmph
!
Someone
needs to learn to keep their mouth shut, and I bet I know who it is.” Justan winced. He didn’t want to get Vincent in trouble.

The wizard sighed. “Well, perhaps if I tell you what I know, it may help ease your mind. Or at the very least, help you figure out what to do about it. If I know you like I think I do, you have already done a lot of research into what becoming an apprentice entails. Is this correct?” 

Justan nodded. “I looked into it. The main change that I can see is that each apprentice is given to a wizard as a personal assistant. This would give me a great opportunity to learn, but it would also limit some of the freedoms that I have.”

After talking to the other apprentices, Justan learned that the demands a wizard placed on his apprentices were often time consuming. Chances are that he would be hard pressed to find time for his morning exercises much less study his personal interests.

“This is true,” the professor admitted. “But I promise you that the benefits far outweigh the drawbacks. This is a step one has to take to become a wizard.”

“Perhaps you are right, Professor.” Justan said. He still didn't see himself ever rising to that position, but who knew? Maybe after he graduated from the
Battle
Academy
, he would return to the
Mage
School
and finish his studies. For the first time, he found himself open to the idea.

 “Okay, this is what I know,” Beehn said. “The council is well aware of your two-year contract and the limitations it places upon your training. Everyone hopes that when the contract is over you will reconsider and stay here longer, but in case you don't, we want you to leave here as prepared as possible.” Professor Beehn paused. “You are aware that the situation with your contract is unique?”