David Wells - Cursed Bones

“Ah, that is much better, Alexander. May I call you Alexander?” Zuhl said.

“Call me whatever you want,” Alexander said.

“You and your sister certainly share one trait,” Zuhl said, somewhat bemused, “a lack of respect for your elders.”

“It isn’t your age I don’t respect,” Alexander said.

“Quite,” Zuhl said. “Allow me to introduce Mage Harkness. Aside from your Mage Gamaliel, I believe he is the only other enchanter mage in all of the Seven Isles.”

“Mage Gamaliel doesn’t belong to me or to anyone else,” Alexander said. “From the looks of that collar, it doesn’t seem that you can say the same, Mage Harkness.”

“Indeed,” Harkness said, absentmindedly touching the collar around his neck. “Lord Zuhl put this on me a very long time ago. The worst of it is the fact that I enchanted it myself. I was very bitter about it for many years, but in time I’ve come to see the value of my position within Lord Zuhl’s court.”

“You’re a slave,” Alexander said. “Whatever you get from Zuhl can’t be worth your freedom.”

“I have far more than most free people,” Harkness said. “A workshop that any mage would envy, perfect security, and the liberty to pursue any line of enquiry that catches my fancy. I could do far worse.”

“I suppose if you tell yourself that often enough, you might actually come to believe it,” Alexander said. Then he looked at Zuhl. “You have my sister.”

“Yes,” Zuhl said, “have you received my terms?”

“You want an old book from Malachi Reishi’s private collection,” Alexander said. “I believe I have it.”

“Your sister suggested that you would never part with it, not even for her.”

“She underestimates her value to me.”

“Huh, I was beginning to believe that both you and she were insane,” Zuhl said. “Your decisions up to this point have been most perplexing, and yet speaking to you face to face, so to speak, you seem quite reasonable, rational even. Shall we make arrangements for the exchange?”

“Yes,” Alexander said. “I propose that our representatives meet on the open plain south of the Iron Oak forest along the road to Irondale. No dragons, no wyverns.”

“Agreed,” Zuhl said. “I will escort your sister there myself so that I might verify the contents of the book.”

“Regrettably, I’ll be unable to make the exchange myself,” Alexander said.

“Quite understandable,” Zuhl said. “Your representatives will suffice. I must say, Alexander, I didn’t expect you to be so … practical. Perhaps there’s another matter we could discuss.”

“I’m listening.”

“Withdraw from Fellenden entirely, then open the Gate from Zuhl to Andalia, and I will wage war against your enemies, leaving Ruatha and Ithilian entirely unscathed.”

“An interesting proposal, but what about the people of Fellenden?”

“What of them?” Zuhl said with a shrug.

“I’ll consider your proposal,” Alexander said, fading into the firmament.

A moment later he appeared in Abigail’s quarters. “Hi, how’re you doing?” he asked.

“I’m bored silly.”

“All things considered, that’s good,” he said. “I’m working on a way to get you back.”

“I know,” Abigail said.

Alexander smiled at his sister as he faded back into the firmament and returned to his body and a splitting headache. He sat up and put his head in his hands.

“Oh Dear Maker, that hurts.”

“I didn’t see any bleeding,” Jack said, sitting forward.

“It’s not as bad as the first time, but it’s not good either,” Alexander said. “I think I’ll rest for a while before I go find the dragon that Abigail befriended.”

“Things didn’t go well with Zuhl, I take it.”

“No, he’s a liar,” Alexander said. “He has no intention of giving Abigail back, but I don’t know what his game is yet.”

“Well,” Jack said, “if the objective is to get the book into his hands, then it doesn’t really matter if he gives us Abigail, so long as you have another plan to rescue her.”

Alexander nodded with his eyes closed. “I do, I think.”

“That’s not as reassuring as I’d like.”

“No, but it’s all I’ve got right now.”

His headache persisted until he fell asleep that night. He was anxious to move his plan forward, but he was also determined to be cautious with his new power, at least until he knew if it could actually kill him or not.

The following morning, while he lay in bed wishing that his leg would heal faster, Bragador approached. He was starting to become familiar with the sensation of danger that he felt when she was near. This time it was different … there was another with her.

She stopped at the door to his Wizard’s Den and shoved a man to the floor, her eyes flashing with fury.

“A small boat entered our waters in the night,” she said. “Twelve men and one of Phane’s abominations he calls wraithkin. All are dead save this one. I have questioned him, but I do not believe the answers he has given me.”

The man looked up at Alexander, a mixture of fear and determination in his eyes as he fixed his gaze on the Sovereign Stone.

“What’s your purpose here?” Alexander asked, knowing the answer before the man spoke.

He hesitated the way a man does when searching for a plausible lie.

“Did you come for this?” Alexander asked, touching the Stone. The man’s colors flared with anxiety.

“Was this the only thing he sent you for?” Alexander asked. Again, the man’s colors shifted and rippled with fear and deceit, though he held his tongue.

“You will answer his questions or I will rip your arm off and eat it while you watch,” Bragador said.

He glanced back and flinched at the coiled rage boiling in her golden eyes.

“Prince Phane sent us for the Sovereign Stone, your head, and any books in your possession,” the man said, his voice cracking. “He has my wife and son. I’m just a sailor, nothing more.”

Alexander sighed. “He speaks true.”

“Very well,” Bragador said. She fixed the sailor with an angry glare. “You will carry a message to your master from me. If he or his agents invade my home one more time, I will call forth every dragon in this mountain and we will wage total war against him. You will tell him that my patience for his meddling is at an end.”

With that, Bragador grabbed the man by the throat, lifted him from the floor and carried him outside the Wizard’s Den where she transformed into her true form, still holding the terrified sailor, and launched into the sky.

“I don’t envy him,” Jack said.

“No, I don’t either,” Alexander said. “But he did confirm that Phane is aware of the lich book.”

“That doesn’t change anything, does it?”

“I don’t think so,” Alexander said. “The Sky Knights should be here today. We’ll proceed as planned.”

“Can we destroy that terrible book now, My Love?” Chloe asked.

“No, Little One. I’m not sure why, but I feel like it might still be important.”

***

Alexander appeared before a startled Isabel.

“Hi,” he said.

“I was beginning to wonder if you’d forgotten about me.”

“Not a chance. There are some other things happening that required my attention, and I’ve discovered, rather painfully, that I can only project over such distances for a short period of time without hurting myself.”

She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I’m sorry. I haven’t spoken to anyone since you left and I’m starting to go a little crazy.”

Isabel thought she was putting things mildly. She’d discovered that being alone was the most difficult. Azugorath seemed to sense her idle mind and choose those times to push against her will, sometimes hard, forcing Isabel to devote everything she had to resisting, other times slow and steady, forcing Isabel to be vigilant over long periods of time. Those attacks were the worst-she didn’t dare try to sleep because the nightmares would be bad.