Wizard of the Grove (23 page)

Doan stopped climbing and turned to look at her. “Who told you that?”

“Everyone.”

“Everyone?” The dwarf made it sound like an expletive. “Did I?”

“No . . . But I thought I was created to wake the dragon?”

“You were.”

“And I wasn't supposed to fight Kraydak at all?”

“You weren't. But that has no bearing on whether or not you could beat him.” He sighed at the expression on her face and motioned for her to sit down, seating himself on a higher step as she did so. “I've been keeping an eye on your battles . . .” A wave of his hand cut off her question. “Never mind how, let's just say I have. And I've been keeping my eye on you for a lot longer. You've got closer ties to the Mother than any of the old wizards ever did and every time you forget to be a wizard with a capital W . . .” He reached down and lifted her chin with the tip of one hoary finger. “Every time you're just Crystal and you hit him with what you're feeling, you whop his ass.”

“I do?”

Doan grinned fiercely. “You do.”

“Then I didn't need the dragon?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. You're young, comparatively untrained, and not even at seventeen can you exist on emotions all the time. The
dragon is a tool for you to use, why not use it?” His finger under her chin increased its pressure and then withdrew. “But if it means so much to you, in my opinion, Kraydak is wrong. You can defeat him.” He got to his feet and started climbing again. “Besides,” he threw back over his shoulder, “that arrogant s.o.b. hasn't been right about anything for thousands of years, so why should he start now?”

As Crystal climbed after the dwarf, the last of the guilt wrapped about Bryon's death dissolved. While she'd thought it inevitable that Kraydak would win, Bryon had died because of her stupidity in accepting the older wizard's challenge. Now that she knew the truth, Bryon was still equally dead, but it wasn't her fault. Now, he could be mourned.

At the top of the stairs, they went through a red sandstone door and out to the badlands of Aliston. Even knowing it existed, Crystal could see no sign of the door on the pillar that marked the edge of the dwarves' territory.

“That's amazing,” she breathed.

“On the contrary,” lectured C'Tal from behind her, “as the dwarves are master of stone, it is not amazing at all. It would be amazing only for a hamadryad, or a mer, or a human to have built that door.”

“It would be impossible,” Doan grunted, turning and looking up, way up, at the centaur. “How're you doing, you old horse's ass?” He grinned as C'Tal pretended not to have heard. “Hear you've begun to believe your own legends.”

C'Tal speared the dwarf with a condescending glare, his arms folded across his mighty chest. “What legends?”

“The legends that say centaurs are the holders of all knowledge.”

One gigantic hoof gouged a hole in the dirt. “We do not feel there was anything amiss in our teaching. She possessed both the information and the ability to fashion it into an understandable whole. And,” he emphasized the word with a mighty stamp, “all the free peoples of the earth should be grateful that with this wizard there will be no danger of her indulging in random and irresponsible behavior. If nothing else, we have instilled in her the belief that she must employ her powers for good.”

“If nothing else,” Doan agreed amicably, leaning against the pillar, both hands shoved behind his belt. “But it's not polite to talk of the child as though she wasn't here.”

“She is not here.”

“Wha . . .”

Crystal, spotting a flash of gold amidst the gray sameness of the badlands, had scrambled to the top of a rocky hillock to get a better look. Slowly at first, for his wings were stiff and unsure, the great golden dragon rose into the sunlight and appeared to burst suddenly into gilded flame. Crystal caught her breath at his splendor and one hand reached out as though to touch the glory. Her heart seemed to be beating too violently to stay within her chest. There were tears in her eyes as she wondered how such a creature would look in silver and green. . . .

“Do you think she'll survive?” Doan asked, after he had explained the plan that Crystal had given the dragon.

“Although her powers are great and still growing, she is, despite our teachings, relatively untrained and it is unlikely that she will prevail against one who is infinitely more experienced in both the means and the method of wizardry.”

“Which means?”

“I do not think she will survive. The hope of the world can only be that she continues to amuse the Enemy long enough for the Doom to approach.”

“Got a better plan?”

“No.”

W
hen Crystal arrived back at the Ardhan camp, it was late evening. She had been gone for four days. Kraydak had apparently not missed her.

The centaurs disappeared practically the instant Crystal's foot hit the ground. One moment they were there and the next they were gone. The queen and her council breathed a collective sigh of relief. Not only was their wizard—daughter, princess—safely back, but it hadn't been easy sharing close quarters with C'Fas for four days. A centaur is an awe-inspiring creature and trapped in a tent—for he had to stay out of sight of Kraydak's spies—he is overwhelming in the extreme.

The dwarves had replaced Crystal's tattered clothes from some hidden store, and had set her opal tear in silver. She wore it on a chain around her neck and it glowed softly in the folds of her tunic.

“Well?” asked Mikhail at last, for Crystal still stood where she'd dismounted, eyes unfocused.

With a barely perceptible jerk, the wizard returned to her body. “He is almost ready to attack again,” she said. “We will be only just in time.”

“We?” repeated Lorn skeptically, “Does this mean . . .” He broke off as Crystal turned to face him. He suddenly couldn't remember what he was going to say.

She swept the tent with her gaze and the questions that had not yet been voiced disappeared. Not until Doan pointed it out, had she realized her stupidity in mentioning the dragon to so many people. It was not beyond Kraydak's ability to lift the knowledge from their minds
and thus gain the time to prepare himself for the attack. Crystal hated to alter the memories of her parents and their council, but it was by far the lesser of two evils. She could only hope she wasn't already too late, hope that they hadn't told everyone in the camp what they knew.

Tayer recovered first from the tampering. She blinked twice, looked momentarily puzzled, and then stared questioningly at her daughter. “You look exhausted,” she said at last. “You need a hot bath, a light supper, and a good night's sleep.”

“A heavy supper please, Mother,” Crystal said as they walked arm in arm from the tent, leaving Mikhail and the council shaking their heads and wondering what they'd missed. “I'm starved.” She'd need all her strength for tomorrow.

In the quiet hour between moonset and dawn, a great white owl lifted from Crystal's tent, circled once around the queen's pavilion, and headed east with strong, unhurried beats of its wings. The sentries that saw it go watched until it vanished in the clouds, then turned to each other and said in voices of wonder, “The wizard,” as if that was enough to explain it. For them, it was.

Tayer and Mikhail slept on, wrapped in each other's arms, unaware that their daughter was changing the rules of Kraydak's game. They would have tried to stop her had they known, so she hadn't told them she was going.

*   *   *

Kraydak, safe in his tower, smiled as Crystal entered his territory. Given her previous displays of power, he had expected more resistance to his call. If the form she wore was intended to deceive him, it was an abject failure, for he had spotted her the moment she crossed the mountains. Mindshielded or not, there just weren't that many owls with a fifteen-foot wingspan.

*   *   *

Crystal flew on, thinking owl thoughts on the surface but behind the shield concentrating only on distracting Kraydak and bringing things to
an end one way or another. She realized her end would probably come before his. Not even the centaurs who had trained her expected her to live. And if by some miracle she did . . . well, she doubted the dragon would allow the last of the wizards to continue to exist. She was calm now, accepting, but in the dark hours of the night she'd considered running, running and letting Kraydak and his Doom fight it out without her. The world would be ripped apart once more, but she would live a while longer.
It
isn't fair,
she sniffed.
I'm only seventeen.
But still she flew on.

The foothills of the Melacian side of the mountains were passing far below her when the storm struck. Gusts of wind tossed her about, trying to slam her out of the air, and the rain beat through her feathers, hitting hard enough to bruise. The water was so dense she could hardly see, the wind ripped feathers free, and the thick down that should have kept her warm and dry was soaked through. She'd expected him to find her but not so soon. She had to survive, her death now would be too short a distraction.

*   *   *

“Distract me from what?” wondered Kraydak, who'd pried free a tiny piece of the thought.

*   *   *

Screaming a challenge, she dove for the first clear area she spotted and her talons sank deep into the soft mud beside a mountain stream. She threw back her head, the green eyes blazed, and a weeping birch, the silver's more flexible cousin, danced in the wind and lifted its leaves to the rain. The wind blew harder, but the tree bent gracefully out of its way, bent so far that its uppermost branches trailed in the swiftly moving water of the stream.

A huge silver salmon with green-gold eyes leaped away and sped downstream as the blue bolt came out of the sky and crashed into the earth where the tree had stood.

*   *   *

Kraydak smiled, calmed the wind and stopped the rain, for they were no longer needed. She was very resourceful, this wizard-child, and he looked forward to making her trip an interesting one before welcoming her to his tower and finding out just what exactly she thought she was doing. If she fought the calling he'd laid upon her, she did it in a very peculiar way. He considered boiling away the stream and the rivers it ran into but decided against it; that would hardly be sporting and he did want her to arrive in one piece. He hadn't been so diverted in centuries. Where had she learned to think so much like a fish?

*   *   *

Crystal sped down the stream as fast as her powerful new body could take her. She was tiring but didn't dare take the time to rest. A moving target was, after all, more difficult to hit. She felt the amusement in Kraydak's questing thoughts and used her anger at it to reinforce her shield.

*   *   *

The ancient wizard laughed aloud. So she would hide her fishy thoughts, would she? He followed instead the pattern of the shield.

*   *   *

The current slowed and the texture of the water changed; the stream was about to join a major river. Once sharing its depths with a multitude of life forms, she'd be harder for Kraydak to spot and, if she remembered the maps correctly, the river ran through Melac's capital city and right past Kraydak's tower. With his attention on the river, he wouldn't be scanning the rest of the countryside.

*   *   *

“Why,” Kraydak asked the skull, “would I want to scan the countryside?” He got only fragments of thought through the shield and this fragment made no sense. If she was trying to sneak assassins through Melac, they'd die before they reached the tower and he'd never have to
become involved. Assassins were a stupid idea. He smiled. They must be getting very desperate.

“I wonder . . .” He tapped the yellowed ivory of the skull's teeth. “Should I scan the countryside?”

The skull grinned up at him.

He nodded. “Yes, you're quite right. She's played my game, so it's only fair I play hers . . . for a while. Besides, the countryside can hold nothing more interesting than the river. She shows such initiative, I almost wished I'd called her sooner.”

*   *   *

A massive golden paw tipped with deadly claws split the water inches from Crystal's nose. Her panicked flip backward took her up and out of the water and dangerously close to the snapping jaws of a huge golden bear. She hit the water with a painful smack and raced back upstream. From the security of the bottom of a deep pool, she considered what she should do.

Crystal knew she really only had one choice. What happened to her was unimportant. She had to hold Kraydak's attention. The dragon had to get through.

She sent out a questing thought. The bear waited at the end of the stream. He blocked the water route completely, which left only one way to go. She rose to the surface of the pool, found the strongest flow of current, and started back downstream. Her fins and tail beat against the water and she swam rapidly toward the river. The current lent her speed and she moved faster and faster until she flashed through the water like silver lightning. When she felt the bear gather himself to lunge, she twisted her tail and jumped.

No fish jumps better than a salmon and no salmon ever leaped higher than Crystal. Up, up she arced, flashing silver in the sunlight. The bear, who had dived forward to scoop her from the water, was taken by surprise and although he reared and raked the air with his claws, he was far too late. With liquid grace, Crystal twisted and dove into the relative safety of the river.

As she swam away, she felt the bear's mind follow her. He seemed to be laughing. At least she'd managed to keep him amused.

*   *   *

Kraydak considered sending an otter into the river but decided against it. He had no need to exert himself for, after all, the wizard-child was coming to him. He would watch to see she didn't slip away and take care of her when she reached the tower. He appreciated her courage, secure in the knowledge that she could do him little harm.

*   *   *

The sun was a red-gold ball balanced on the western mountains when Crystal reached the tower. She swam slowly, trying to conserve her dwindling energies. Between holding the transformation and the constant fear that Kraydak would make a move she couldn't counter, she was nearing the point of exhaustion. And if she faced Kraydak, if she actually reached him and the dragon hadn't yet come, what then? Could her shield hold without distance to lend it strength? She was so busy worrying, she didn't notice the net until it was too late.

“Right then, we've got her! Heave to and let's get her beached!”

The four men put their backs to it, laboriously drawing the net and its thrashing cargo to shore. But what they pulled from the water was no fish.

“Holy shit,” breathed a ruffian who was missing an ear and most of his nose. “I never thought I'd see one of those.” He dropped the net and grabbed for his sword as the unicorn kicked itself free of the ropes.

It was over very quickly.

Sides heaving, its horn and hoofs dripping gore, the unicorn staggered-toward the tower. It shimmered and Crystal collapsed across the steps. Her skin and shift were covered in blood, not all of it belonging to others. There was a sword cut on her upper arm and her nose still bled freely. She shivered in the shadow of the tower and couldn't seem to catch her breath.

The great iron-bound door swung open. She was expected.

At least he's still interested,
she thought, crawling forward. She pulled herself up until she sat on the bottom step, looked up at the apparently infinite length of stone staircase wrapped about the inside of the building, and giggled. She couldn't help it.

“You've got to be kidding,” she called up the stairs.

The door slammed shut and latched with an ominous thunk. Kraydak thought he had her safe; now she had nowhere to go but up.

Crystal remembered the blue bolt smashing Bryon to the ground and added the memory to her shield. The dragon should be very close. If it was coming. If Kraydak hadn't already taken care of it. She set her teeth, pulled herself to her feet, and slowly began to climb.

*   *   *

High above the clouds, the dragon soared, his scales glowing reddish gold in the light of the setting sun. He banked and dipped and gloried in the strength of his wings.

“Perhapsss wait,” he thought as he raced the wind and won. “Kraydak killsss wizzzard. Kraydak isss mine. No more wizzzards. Ever.”

The sun dropped below the horizon and, for a moment, the dragon lit the evening on his own.

“Perhapsss wait.”

*   *   *

On the hundredth step, Crystal knew she had to rest. Her blood sang in her ears and she couldn't, just couldn't lift her leg again. She sagged against the outer wall.

DEATH!

The scream in her mind shocked her so she slid down half a dozen steps before she could catch herself. Eyes wide, she reached out a trembling hand and touched the wall again.

DEATH!

Even prepared for it, the force of the cry caused her to jerk and
snatch her hand away as if she'd been burned. She sat down, carefully staying away from the wall, and clasped her hands between her knees to stop them from shaking.

“Destroy him,” said Lord Death from the step below her, “and free my people, too.”

And then he was gone and she was alone again save for the screaming souls trapped in the walls. It was a long time before she could continue to climb.

The door to the inner sanctum was made of solid gold. The carved face of a demon leered out at Crystal as she mounted the last few steps and just before the door swung open, it bared its teeth. She stepped over the threshold and looked about. The slamming of the door behind her was so predictable that she didn't even flinch.

The walls of the room were covered in sheets of beaten gold, a cheerful fire burned in a small hearth, a huge desk took up over half the space, and strange and wonderful things were piled haphazardly about. A door seemed to lead to another room, although this first room took up the full diameter of the tower. There were no windows.

Kraydak looked very much as he had in her mind. Maybe better. He wore a robe of blue velvet which had fallen open to expose the golden muscles of his chest and he smiled kindly.

“Now what, little one?” he asked. “How are you to defeat me in single combat when you barely made it up the stairs?”

Clenching her teeth, Crystal pulled herself erect and reached into her belt. With what was almost the last of her strength, she sent the small silver knife flying straight for Kraydak's heart.