The High-Wizard's Hunt

Chapter 15

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Magical Musings

Bridgett closed the book she was holding and placed it on the table in front of her. She could remember Eublin reading those same tales to her when she first came to the Grove. She had always thought of them as myths, children’s stories, and Eublin had seemed like an eccentric, old uncle who believed in the impossible. Having seen what she had over the past few weeks with Osric, though, she was beginning to reassess what Eublin’s tales might mean for the uses of magic. It had been years since she had read Eublin’s research, as he called it, and she was struggling to focus on it. As much as she enjoyed the memories the stories provoked, she just couldn’t keep her mind on the words in the book. She was torn between being furious with Osric for kissing her and wishing she hadn’t reprimanded him for it. She was confused and frustrated by the rapid changes her life had undergone.

Her responsibilities were to the Grove of Unicorns. She was supposed to insure that the secrets of the Grove were not exposed. She was supposed to use her abilities to assist the unicorns in maintaining balance. Up until she met Osric, she thought that maintaining balance meant tending to the inhabitants of the Grove. Not only were there unicorns, Maidens, and Eublin living within the protection of the Grove of Unicorns, there were also a seemingly endless variety of plants and animals that flourished in the perpetual summer within the mysterious spell. While they would probably go right on thriving without her, Bridgett had always felt that it was her responsibility to watch over them.

She had spent fifteen peaceful, pleasant years among the unicorns. Although she remembered her early childhood and her years in training with the Healers of Araseth fondly, she felt as though she had spent nearly her entire life devoted to the Grove and the unicorns. Most of her time had been spent collecting herbs, tending to the gardens, and studying with Eublin. She had often traveled outside the Grove with the unicorns on brief trips, healing the sick or blessing the births of newborns around Archana, but she had never been gone for more than a few days until she climbed up onto that dragon with Osric. He had changed her entire world, truly he had changed her, and she wasn’t sure if she should curse him or thank him for it.

Osric was an enigma. He had more power than any wizard born on Archana in the history she was aware of. He had somehow acquired multiple innate abilities, which Bridgett had never considered possible. Each inhabitant of Archana was born with one ability-one measure of magic-so how could Osric possibly have so many? Yet, as powerful as he had become, Osric was often careless, hasty, and uncertain of his own abilities. He was too inexperienced to have such responsibility thrust upon his shoulders, but he always managed to find a way out of trouble. From the first day she had met him, she knew the unicorns were interested in him. She hadn’t had the faintest idea then of why that may be. Now, it seemed obvious that they must have known that Osric’s fate would be tied to the future of Archana. She wished she could discern how his fate was tied to her own.

She had always expected that her life would be quiet and peaceful, a safe existence within the protection of the Grove. She had never expected that she would someday be caught up in a struggle for peace or entwined in the fate of all of Archana. She had spent her entire life distanced from others, yet all she could think about was getting closer to Osric.

Bridgett wished she could speak with the unicorns. For the first time in her life, her Empath ability seemed completely inadequate for her to do her job. She could feel a sense of something great from the unicorns, as if the world were on a tipping point. It was as though they were watching these events with excitement and awe. Change was in the thoughts of every unicorn mind she touched, and they were unsure for the first time in her memory.

Bridgett cradled her head in her hands and took a deep breath. Pining over Osric would do her no good, and it may keep her from finding something important that could help him. She was about to pick the book back up and resign herself to getting through it without thinking about Osric when she heard voices outside the room. She glanced out into the hall just in time to see Eublin and Gus disappear into the main library. Glad for the distraction, she grabbed the book and followed them.

Gus and Eublin were already seated and engrossed in their discussion about the explosion at the palace in Stanton. Eublin smiled at her as she entered and indicated with a nod that she should take the chair next to him.

“If the unicorn would just speak, it would be a lot easier for us to determine what in Archana is going on! Isn’t there anyone here who can talk to them?” Gus ranted.

“Alas, they do not speak; not to any of us anyway,” Eublin spoke knowingly at his outburst and nodded in Bridgett’s direction. “I am sure they do communicate, but for whatever reason, they do not do so with those of us who use words.” He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms with a smile. Gus looked at Bridgett expectantly. She smiled at the irony of how her recent thoughts paralleled that same concept.

“How about it, my lady? Have you anything to add to our last discussion about these majestic creatures?” Gus’ ears were twitching slightly with anticipation. “Are you ready to tell me how the unicorn communicate with you now that you know I can be trusted?”

“Oh, Gus. There is nothing more for me to tell you. The unicorns do not speak to me. They can only express what they want from me through their emotions. I was just thinking that I wish there was something I could do to communicate with them more clearly.”

“Strands! There has to be a way to get some information out of them.” Bridgett smiled suddenly as realization struck.

“Actually, I believe there is a way,” she said, provoking an excited expression on Gus’ small face. “Unfortunately, until they want us to know, it seems they will not allow it. Why do you think the unicorns will not let Osric approach them? His power is growing quickly, but I do not get the impression that they fear him for it. They are simply avoiding him. Perhaps the secret to learning from the unicorns lies in Osric’s new abilities.” Gus nearly fell off of her lap in his excitement.

“That’s it! You are brilliant, my dear! So how can we convince the unicorns to let Osric get close to them?” Gus mumbled the last bit to himself. “Hey, why don’t we send Kenneth over to take a look at them? He somehow has the same gifts growing within him.”

“The unicorns do not demand he stay away as well?” Eublin leaned forward anxiously with an arched eyebrow.

“No, they didn’t seem to care one way or another what he did.” Gus threw his paws in the air as he spoke. “It does not make sense to me why they would refuse Osric, but not Kenneth.”

“Well, I suppose that would be worth a try, but Kenneth is no longer here. We can consider that more when they return. I see you have one of my books with you, dear,” Eublin said. Bridgett nodded, shifting in her seat to reposition the large book in her lap.

“I was reading some of the stories you shared with me when I first arrived. There is one in this book that seems to refer to spoken spells. Do you know anything more about it?”

“Oh, those are not just stories, my dear. Those books hold the collection of all of my research on the history and uses of magic. For my long life, the evidence of spoken spells is frustratingly sparse, but I seem to recall hearing a little about them.” Eublin sat a bit straighter in his chair as he continued. “There was an ursidae who discovered the method while in a competition with the first Wand-Maker. Obviously, the Wand-Maker won. I found it surprisingly difficult to learn much more than that about the technique. It seems the ability died out with the ursidae and no one remembers how it worked.” Gus and Bridgett exchanged a knowing look.

“I always thought they were just stories, but I am beginning to believe there is more to it than that. Osric recovered an old book from the eagles that contained the secret to spoken spells. We used some of them to infiltrate the volcano and free the dragons from their imprisonment.” Bridgett sensed the growing excitement and fascination within Eublin as she spoke.

“You mean to say that spoken spells have been reintroduced to the world of Archana? Why, this opens up so many new possibilities. I can barely contain my excitement! Would it be possible for me to take a peek at that book?” Eublin was bouncing in his seat with anticipation.

“Sure you could, but it wouldn’t do you any good,” Gus chimed in. “The book is blank.”

“I don’t understand. How can the book be blank if Osric was able to use it to wield spoken spells?”

“Somehow, Osric has acquired the ability necessary to see the spells in the book. It seems that Kenneth has gained the ability as well. As far as we know, no one else on Archana is able to see the writing it contains,” Bridgett responded, “and we are hesitant to allow anyone else to know of the ability. For now, we would like to keep the advantage of using spoken spells within the group of individuals we know that we can trust.”

“Of course, of course. The implications of that power in the wrong hands is fearful. I will keep your secret, my dear, but I hope that someday Osric will entrust me with the knowledge of such a fascinating method of magic,” Eublin said wistfully.

“We can ask him more about what he has learned from it when he returns. Although, I am wondering if there are other methods of wielding magic that we are unaware of. Perhaps there is something else you can tell us that would be helpful,” Bridgett suggested.

“There are several avenues of magic that have been explored throughout the ages, but none of them have been very successful.” Eublin rubbed a hand over his head and stared at the floor as he thought. Bridgett could see his mind racing as he traced the lines between the stone blocks on the floor with his eyes. Eublin cocked his head and looked at Bridgett with a wry smile. He hopped down off his chair, waving a finger in the air as he disappeared into the shelves that filled the room. “I will be right back,” he said as his footsteps were muffled by his surroundings.

Bridgett looked at Gus with a shrug, not knowing what Eublin was after, but sensing an almost amused sort of curiosity from him when he left to retrieve it.

Gus grew tired of waiting after a time and hopped down from Bridgett’s lap to pace the floor, while murmuring to himself in a disgruntled tone. Bridgett could feel his frustration and found it difficult, as usual, to keep herself from being drawn into the emotion of someone with such strong feelings. She found her anchor in her thoughts of Osric and the kiss. She did not want to dwell on her feelings for him, but it was easier to focus if she used her own emotions to override the feelings she was picking up from her companions. Her own frustration grew as the waiting continued, until finally the sound of naked footfalls on stone brought her back to the moment. She was relieved when Eublin made his way around the final bookshelf carrying an old, leather bound book in his hands.

“It may not be worth our time,” Eublin spoke as he sat back in his chair, satisfaction and pride emanating from his mind as he opened the book, “but I think I see a connection, albeit a small one, between our current events and something I read in this book.”

“What sort of connection?” Bridgett reveled in the emotions Eublin was experiencing. His mind was refreshing and familiar, and she felt more like herself in his company than she had in the last several months.

“Well, your discovery of the accuracy of my studies on spoken spells brought something to mind. Perhaps some of my more elusive subjects hold just as much truth. This one in particular, Salden’s journal, has always fascinated me. It was written during the war between the humans and the caldereth. He chronicled these events after the humans won the battle at Hollow Gorge, and he was present at the interrogation of two prisoners who survived.”

“Was he one of the foot soldiers? I would be wary of listening to anything the likes of that would say.” Gus picked at his fur and looked thoroughly uninterested as he sat down on the floor.

“There is not much written about who he was, or what he did; he only wrote about the aftermath of this one battle.” Eublin grinned mischievously as he turned to look at Bridgett. “Now, you tell me that the Turgent is planning to attack the Irua Realm, correct?”

“Yes, and they have manufactured the motive. There is no evidence that the irua had anything to do with the attack, other than the accusation of a scared maid who overheard a weasel and irua talking. One event of two individuals having a conversation does not establish that the two races are actually working to harm anyone.”

“I agree, and that is what has me thinking. Spoken spells are real, so maybe the Well of Strands is real too,” Eublin stated with satisfaction.

“The Well of Strands?” Gus stood up suddenly on his hind legs, sticking his unnaturally thin chest in the air with defiance. ”You’re crazy if you want me to believe in that fable.”

“Let us not get caught up in arguing over what is what. Just listen to what I have to say before you pass judgement,” Eublin chastised. Gus harrumphed and sat down in disgust. “I know Wand-Makers do not hold this story with any regard, but Er’amar spent time in this grove making the first wand. I can tell you from our history that he did not spend all of that time in the Grove, either, so just let me finish and you can come to your own conclusions.”

Bridgett could sense Gus’ frustration. Few of those he had met in the last few months treated him with as much admiration as he was accustomed to. He was, after all, Archana’s greatest Wand-Maker. Yet, he was continually the student in the recent past, rather than the instructor. He was, no doubt, extremely frustrated by the uncomfortable reversal of position.

“Since we have established that spoken spells are real, and this book is from the same time frame, we can surmise that a resurgence of both may be related.” Eublin displayed a great deal of patience with Gus, and Bridgett knew he was choosing his words carefully.

“How do you consider the Well of Strands as having ‘resurgence?’” Gus slapped his hind foot on the stone floor.

“That is where this book comes in.” Eublin smiled patiently and continued. “Salden wrote of the interrogation of two prisoners. The humans attacked the caldereth, thinking that they were going to invade their realm, but the caldereth were merely passing through the Human Realm on their way to attack the irua. The relationship between the two species was never amicable, so the fact that the caldereth army tried to cross human lands without so much as asking permission led to their destruction. The reason given by the two prisoners was that the caldereth commanders claimed to have found the Well of Strands by some mystical means they were not privy to. Now, we sit on the precipice of another war involving the same lands. Magic that was meddled with at that time is now being rediscovered. I cannot help but wonder if whoever is behind this war is after the Well of Strands.”

Bridgett sat back in stunned silence. It made sense, but she certainly did not like the implications that history was repeating itself. The caldereth were exterminated in that war. What would become of the races of Archana if a full-fledged world war broke out for the greed of one man? She shook her head in disgust, and then she directed a question at Eublin.

“Wait, what exactly is the Well of Strands?”

“It’s a blasted myth, that’s what it is!” Gus snarled.

“Not necessarily,” Eublin said, leaning forward and perching on the edge of his seat. “According to legend, there was once a thriving civilization, much like that of the humans, on an island in the Darib Sea. The race that inhabited the island was proud, and they were very wealthy. They began to fear that the other races of Archana would cease trading with them and rather invade them to usurp their resources. A small group of wizards attempted to weave spells of protection around the entire island that could keep out any army, but they simply weren’t strong enough. Each only had his one measure of magic, after all. Yet, the legends say that one wizard discovered that if he tunneled down into the ground, he could cast stronger spells. So, the wizards carved labyrinths beneath their city, seeking enough power to complete the task of protecting their race. Eventually, the entire civilization was living beneath the surface of Archana.” Eublin sat back in his chair with a satisfied smile. “Now, whether it is all just a myth, or whether the location of the island was lost over time in the tale’s telling is debatable. However, some believe that the irua live in those same labyrinths, perhaps because they are one of the few races who live beneath Archana’s surface. As far as I know, there are no magnificent spells of protection encircling the Irua Realm. However, many still believe that there is a source of magic deep within Archana that would allow a wizard’s spells to be significantly stronger. This source, whatever it may be, is what is referred to by those who believe in its power as the Well of Strands. Obviously, the caldereth were of the mind that the Well existed under the Irua Realm.”

Gus puffed, disgruntled tones and muffled insults spewed from his mouth as he scampered between the legs of Bridgett’s chair. “You and Eni would make a great pair. Tell me why I should bother looking to you for knowledge if you are going to spout fables in such a convincing manner? If grand protection spells are your indication, we might as well believe the Well of Strands is beneath this very grove.”

“I am not professing the tales to be true, Gus. I am merely answering the lady’s question.” Eublin looked down at him in reproach. “We do not actually know who cast the spells protecting the Grove of Unicorns. For all we know, the Well is beneath our very feet. However, I doubt that very much.” Gus folded his arms across his chest in defiance and looked as though he would start shouting again. “Now, keep in mind that something does not have to be correct for it to be true.”

“You just make more and more sense every time you open your mouth! What in Archana’s name is that supposed to mean?” Gus demanded.

“If the caldereth believed that the Well of Strands existed beneath the Irua Realm, then for the caldereth it was true. They believed it. They believed it enough to march every man, woman, and child across the Human Realm to invade the realm of another race in the search for power. Regardless of whether the Well exists or doesn’t, for them it was true. Now, for our purposes, whether they were correct is irrelevant.” Eublin hopped up out of his chair and flipped through one of the large books on the table. “What we need to know is how to proceed from here. If the Turgent is indeed striving to use manufactured evidence to justify a war with the Irua Realm, that would lead me to believe he feels it is true as well. Why would someone want to find the Well of Strands?”

“If the Well would allow someone to cast stronger spells than an individual is able to naturally, it seems reasonable that his motive is one of two things,” Bridgett responded thoughtfully, ignoring Gus’ scowl. “Either he wants to use the power to benefit the inhabitants of Archana, or he wants to use the power to benefit himself. Assuming he is willing to annihilate an entire race to gain the power, the second seems most likely.”

“Correct. However, it is even more likely that this individual feels his personal benefit is for the benefit of all of Archana. It is rare that someone who engages in acts of selfishness actually feels he is acting selfishly.”

“So, we are looking at someone who is waging war against an entire race and he feels that anyone acting against him is preventing Archana from gaining the benefit of his actions?” Bridgett was beginning to see the implications of such an enemy.

“Aha. Now you are starting to understand how dangerous such a man could be.”

*

“Where could he have gone off to now? That pup has no concept of respect; he is always wandering off and causing me to worry,” Gus grumbled as they wandered through the grove.

“Oh hush, he is just a pup and there is nothing in this grove that will harm him,” Bridgett chided. “I am sure he is perfectly fine.”

“I think I hear him now,” Eublin added, gesturing ahead of them on the path.

The three picked up their pace a bit as the sound of Pebble’s childish laughter reached their ears. They came around a bend in the path and caught sight of a group of unicorns gathered in a meadow. They couldn’t see Pebble, but they could hear him talking.

“One’s for you’s, and one’s for you’s, and this one’s is special, just for you’s ‘cause you’s been so good to me’s! I’s is super gonna miss you’s the mostest!”

Bridgett approached the group, resting her hand on the back of one unicorn as she joined their circle and smiled at the pup’s sweet gesture of giving parting gifts to the unicorns. She had grown so fond of Pebble during their travels. The unicorns also seemed to enjoy having him in the grove. She could feel the emotions of gratitude, protectiveness, and delight emanating from each of the creatures surrounding the prairie dog pup. One unicorn bowed her head low and nuzzled his chest as he laid a small package on the ground before her. Bridgett could see flowers and small, pretty stones scattered on the ground in front of them. It looked as though Pebble had been busy collecting presents for them. The last gift he had placed was wrapped in a large leaf, and Bridgett could just see the tip of a small stick poking out. Her breath caught in her throat as she realized the unicorn that was nuzzling Pebble was the same one that had lost her horn the day the palace in Stanton collapsed. Bridgett thought back to the first moment she had met Osric and she found it difficult to speak. She took a deep breath and pulled her thoughts back to the present. Kneeling down on the ground, she was about to scoop up Pebble and kiss his furry cheek when she heard a familiar, yet muffled, voice from behind her.

“Gus, Bridgett, it be Machai. I need to be speaking with ye urgently.” Bridgett’s stomach sank at the somber and urgent tone in his voice. She didn’t need her Empath powers to know that something was very wrong. Her only thought was for Osric and the consideration that she may never see him again. She rose slowly to her feet and turned to Gus with a look of dread terror on her face.

“Machai, what is it, what’s happened?” Gus questioned, raising his wand to reveal the image of Machai in its display of light.

“It be bad news, me friends. Aron be at the head of the troops sent to be claiming the shipment. We be taking a fierce stand, but the devilish man be having me in the grips of his icy spell. Osric and Kenneth be captured and taken back to Rowain with the weapons.” Gus swore and kicked at the dirt while Bridgett sank to her knees in the grass. “Aye, I be sorry that I could not be killing that man when I be having the chance. There be some good news, though.” Both Bridgett and Gus held their breath waiting for Machai to continue. “I be speaking with someone, and I be knowing how we can be helping Osric. It be a bit complicated, so I be asking you to trust me.” Gus stared at Machai’s image as though he would strangle him if he could only reach his paws across the distance between them.

“Of course we trust you, Machai. We will do whatever it takes to help Osric; just tell us what you need of us,” Bridgett responded quickly, glaring at Gus.

“I be needing ye to be meeting me in Stanton. There be a fight brewing, and we will be needing every wand and blade we can be getting.”

“Done!” Bridgett answered before Gus could say a word. Her hands were balled into determined fists as she rose to her feet and stomped off toward her rooms.

“Bridgett, where do you think you’re going? We can’t just run off to Stanton because the dwarf says we should,” Gus protested. Bridgett spun on her heels and pointed her finger down at Gus as he ran toward her.

“You listen to me! Osric may be the only chance we have to prevent the entire world as we know it from imploding on itself in the most epic war Archana has ever seen. We certainly will do whatever it takes to assist him in his course of action. If casting a spell and wielding a sword is asked of me, I will not hesitate. If the same is asked of you, you will not hesitate! My responsibilities are to this grove and to the majestic creatures that reside here. After all we have learned, can you think of a better way for me to protect them than to offer my life to the one man who can save them?” Bridgett stopped suddenly, tears streaming down her face.

The words had just spilled from her lips as though she had no control over her own thoughts or actions. She knew how her words would be interpreted, but she didn’t care. Osric was their only hope. Standing still under the false sunlight of an enchanted realm, tears streaming down her cheeks, she realized she meant it. She would pledge her life to him, if he would only ask it of her.

Bridgett’s breath came in ragged gasps, but when she continued she was able to speak calmly. “We will go to Stanton, and we will do whatever it takes to help Osric stop this war.” She turned and walked away, and Gus and Eublin stared after her for a moment with expressions of awe and surprise on their faces. Pebble skipped past them after waving goodbye to the unicorns.

“I’s got’s some more gifts I’s gotsta give out. I’s will be right back’s!”