The Bonding (The Song and the Rhythm) (11 page)

“Aye, I know him.” The bearded mage wondered if he’d have any friends left after this story. “He and I were apprentices in the same town and became close friends. We had common interests, then, and even talked about traveling the world together once our apprenticeship was over. But that wasn’t to be.

“About a year before our time was over, Elak found a book of magic. Strong magic. Magic so old his master couldn’t comprehend it, if he’d even tried to. This magic, you see, was evil. Terribly evil. It latched onto Elak’s desire for power and promised him more. It subjugated him and made him what he is today: a wizard feared by all sane men. A wizard whose name is used to frighten little children. A wizard who threatens all life as we know it.”

“Wait a minute,” Vaun puzzled. “I don’t understand something. You said the magic turned him evil, right? How can that be? Is magic somehow alive?”

The wizard pursed his lips and scratched his bearded chin. “Not exactly, but that’s close to it. Remember what Drath told you about the creation of the different worlds, and that they have different rules? Good. Well, just as the people in your world were given gifts and permission for technological advancement, some people in ours are born with the ability to manipulate certain forces. This ability is also a gift from the Great God. Technology, you see, is forbidden to us, just as magic is forbidden to you. This is why you had to leave behind everything unique to your world. Any item of a technological nature would have violated the Great God’s decree and upset the Balance he instilled in this world, in the same way any spell someone from this world cast in yours would do the same. People, though, seem able to cross relatively freely. I am guessing this is so because, at our deepest core, all of us are made in the same image.

“There are forces in your world that could be called magical, but the Great God declared you were not permitted to manipulate them. The Great God imbued all things with a kind of internal energy, and with the proper talents and training a person can make use of that energy. Whether it be for healing, communication, experimentation, offense, defense, or any common function, this energy can be employed to enhance that task. It is this energy, and the manipulation of it, that has come to be known as magic.

“All magic derives from a source, and some sources are stronger than others. The root of all sources is the Great God, and He allows His creations to do with their gifts of magic what they will, even if it means they turn to His enemies for power. But no matter the strength of the source, the power of a spell is determined by the person casting it. The more power involved in the spell, the more training and experience it takes to handle it. The less power involved, the less draining it is on the magician. For example, if a first-year apprentice were to attempt to give his enemies a heart attack, as I did, he would most likely die. That spell is a powerful one and can only be used by someone who has been a mage for a long time. For an apprentice or inexperienced wizard to attempt such a thing would be foolhardy at best. He would be draining his internal energy capacity too greatly, and that can cause loss of all magical ability, or even death.

“On the other hand, if an experienced mage were to cast a spell to make fire, one of the simplest of spells, then he could do it with almost no drain on his energy. He would still be able to cast a number of stronger spells without danger of harming himself. The more familiar a spell is, the easier it is to cast, and the less energy it uses. A more powerful and complicated spell can take days, weeks, months, or even years of preparation before the mage is ready and able to wield it. If he tries too soon, he may fail and never be able to perform even the simplest of magics. Magic is a useful tool, but only if used properly.

“But that is the same with anything. Even your sword. If you don’t train to use it properly, you can injure or even kill yourself. Correct? If an apprentice smith tries to forge a weapon without first learning the proper tempering procedures, he will not only fail but will risk great injury. So you must be properly trained to do something before you attempt it, including the use of magic.”

Merdel shifted on his seat. “Although most magicians are born with the ability, many come to use it through study and training alone. They are typically weaker than those born with magic, but they tend to have more control over it. Inherent magic is more taxing on the body, but it is much more powerful, although not as powerful as some forms of external magic. Nature, for example, has tremendous power. If you can learn to tap it correctly, you can do almost anything. There are certain types of creatures that exist only through magic, and their power can also be used. Life itself has magic, as does death. This does not make it inherently evil. It is, after all, a creation of the Great God, and all things made by Him are good. Magic is only evil when it is used for evil.”

Vaun was frowning. “But I thought you said the magic is what made Elak evil.”

Merdel nodded. “I did. The spells he employs were created by an evil mage many centuries ago. In writing them down, he imbued them with his own evil. When used by someone else, they become infected with that evil. It feeds on their darkest desires, promising to grant them. It’s the best way a wizard, after he dies, can ensure his magic is used for what he wanted in life. Almost all books of magic are enspelled in this way, and it takes careful examination to keep them from subjugating you. Like all mind-control spells, once they are revealed for what they are, they are easily overcome.”

Merdel droned on, telling them of how incautious Elak was in his pursuit of power, and of how the evil magic fed on his desire to rule. He told them of how, over time, Elak lost his morality because of his use of the dark magic and his own deeply rooted evil. He told them of how all things would surely die if Elak were allowed to succeed.

But Vaun barely heard him. Something had grabbed his attention when Merdel mentioned mind-control magic. He wasn’t sure what it was, but after several minutes of thinking, he began to realize what it was that had been nagging in the back of his mind, and why his headache had disappeared.

At first, he didn’t want to believe it. Surely his friends wouldn’t do such a thing to him. Surely Drath would never have allowed him to be deceived in this way. But he couldn’t escape the certainty of it. He couldn’t explain how, but he knew what they’d done to him. Maybe it was the strange noise that told him, for it had flared to life when the thoughts first struck him. Maybe he’d known it all along but hadn’t wanted to admit it. Maybe it was just the right time to figure it out. However he knew, the revelation of what his new friends had done angered him more than anything else. He had trusted them. He had believed them. He had let them into a part of his life that few people were allowed to even approach. Yes, they had given him much in return, but what they’d done to him only increased the lie.

Merdel seemed to sense the fury building in Vaun’s eyes. He stopped his narration midsentence when he discovered their new companion staring him down and shivered at the look in Vaun’s pale blue eyes, as if afraid the young man might attack him with the sword he now gripped tightly.

“You used magic on me.” Vaun didn’t bother asking.

Merdel cleared his throat and swallowed, obviously distressed by more than just the accusation. Vaun barely heard him mumble something about how no one should be able to determine that.

Vaun’s gaze sharpened at Merdel’s comment. “Didn’t you, Wizard? You used magic on me to get me to come with you.” His voice softened abruptly. “Didn’t you.” The whispered statement made Merdel flinch.

Drath looked from Vaun to Merdel and back before clearing his throat noisily. “What’s going on here, Vaun? What are you talking about? Merdel didn’t use magic on you.” The tall man turned commanding eyes on the wizard. “Did you?” His sea-green eyes dared Merdel to say yes.

Merdel hesitated. “Actually, Drath, the young man is correct. I did use magic on him. But only to convince him we were telling the truth. Besides, with my loyalty to the Great God, I cannot make a lie sound true; otherwise my magic would not have worked. Vaun already wanted to go. I only helped him agree. He seemed so unsure; I just wanted to help him make up his mind.”

Drath stood abruptly. “You what? How dare you! I specifically told you not to use magic on him. I wanted Vaun to come with us because he believed us. I wanted him to trust us. I wanted him to be free to make his own decision based upon what he thought, not because magic influenced him. And you lied and told me you wouldn’t.” The tall man shook his head. “You disgust me sometimes, Wizard.”

Drath turned to find Vaun staring at him. Fortunately, the youth didn’t look like he wanted to chop his head off like he did Merdel’s. Drath’s voice quieted. “I swear to you, Vaun, I didn’t know. If I had, I would’ve made Merdel stop it. He suggested it when you ran away that first day, but I told him it was out of the question. I wanted your belief to be genuine. I knew you’d come with us. It would just take a little persuasion. Believe me, Vaun, I would never have allowed it had I known.”

Vaun looked at Drath as if for the first time. He suddenly didn’t know if he could trust him. He seemed sincere, like always, but maybe he’d been lying the entire time. Maybe they all had. Maybe this was all one big lie. But why? Why do what they had done if it was only a lie? It didn’t make sense.

Frustrated at not finding an immediate answer, and hurt that his friends would deceive him so, Vaun rose and walked into the nearby trees. Strapping on his sword, he stomped through the thin wood in search of answers. Behind him, he heard Drath start yelling at Merdel again, only this time joined by a very boisterous Thorne.

Vaun Tarsus wandered for some time, shoving past the branches blocking his path. He ignored the singing birds and the animals that protested the noise he made. Irritated, he kicked over a pine sapling as he tried to sort through what he’d discovered and reach some kind of conclusion about how he felt.

His friends hadn’t lied to him completely, but they had hidden the whole truth from him. He cursed himself for not asking more questions when his mind first suspected something odd had occurred but realized that did no good now. What he’d done and not done were inconsequential to what he did now.

He guessed he wasn’t truly angry at them. He could understand why Merdel had done what he did, considering what the wizard thought of their chances of finding somebody besides him. He might have done much the same thing himself. Still, it hurt that someone who called himself a friend would do such a thing. It made him wonder what kinds of friends these men were.

From Drath’s reaction, Vaun believed the tall man when he said he didn’t know about Merdel’s trickery. The youth couldn’t fathom the man who’d become almost his closest friend allowing something like that to be done to him. Perhaps he thought that only because he wanted to, but realized he didn’t care. He believed he knew Drath well enough to trust that he hadn’t known. Still, it didn’t cover the fact Merdel had influenced him with magic.

And that was what worried Vaun the most. Not that he’d been enspelled, but because he thought maybe his desire to travel with them came only from the spell that had been placed on him. He was concerned that he didn’t truly want to go on this quest, that they’d trapped him here. But that didn’t make any sense, for he’d wanted to do this ever since he first picked up a wooden sword and read his first novel. He’d committed himself to come when he’d first laid eyes on Drath’s worn boots. He’d known even then that there was something special behind the tall man’s sea-green eyes, and he’d wanted to be a part of it without knowing exactly what that was. His instincts had sensed it, and he’d listened to them without realizing it.

He had always lived with the desire to be someone other than who he was, and these five men had given him that opportunity. One of them may have partially deceived him, but they had indeed brought him to another world. He was here, in this world—that was supposed to be what he wanted. All of a sudden he didn’t care how he’d gotten here. What mattered was that he was able to wear a sword and call himself Vaun Tarsus.

Then there was the question of Elak. Was this Dark Wizard, as they called him, real? Was he the threat they claimed? Or was he another deception? Something else to entice him to join them? Another way to tease his imagination and make him forget who he was?

But who was he? Vaun Tarsus or Sean Matthews? Or both? Could he be both? Vaun wasn’t sure, but he did feel he wanted to be Vaun Tarsus more than anything. Except when he’d been attacked. Then he’d wanted nothing more than to be Sean Matthews and to discover that the threat to his life wasn’t real but rather a vivid image brought upon by a well-written novel.

But that wasn’t true, and he knew it.

He truly walked through another world, and he truly had defended himself from two men who’d tried to kill him. Two men sent by a man so evil it made his skin crawl. He knew very little about Elak, but what he did know frightened him greatly. If they had told him the truth in this, which he believed they had, then Elak must not be allowed to succeed. No matter what spell might have been placed on him to get him into this world, Vaun didn’t need one to make him agree to stay. He wanted to help these men, even Merdel. He wanted to stop the madman who sought to dominate both his world and the one he wanted to call home. Nothing else mattered.

Oddly, his decision to continue the quest made him think of the image of himself on the hilt of his sword. Drawing it forth, he ignored that peculiar tingling that occurred every time he touched the weapon as he concentrated on the hilt carving. The cars and planes of his world mixed with the hills and warriors of this one, and over it all he saw himself. At this moment, thinking as he did, he saw himself not only as just another figure on the sword, but also as a guardian of the objects around him. It was up to him to brave the dangers of his quest and to seek to destroy the wizard who worked his vile magic. As a self-professed warrior, he had no other choice.