R. Salvatore - Echoes of the Fourth Magic

“Jeff DelGiudice,” Del replied with a laugh. “Call me Del. You’re Ardaz, the Silver Mage?”

“Yes, yes, of course I am. You have a strange name, my son; yes, very strange indeed! Del-joo-dis. Why, it is a name I might have used from the other-”

Suddenly the old man began trembling and his breath came in short gasps. “You knew Shakespeare,” he squeaked, and he pulled up his hat above his hairless brow, that he could study Del more closely. The cut of Del’s uniform and its synthetic material were familiar to Ardaz, vague memories of clothes he had worn many, many years before, before the dawn of Aielle. This man in front of him was of the older world!

“The ancient ones walk the land!” Ardaz shrieked with a leap, and he threw his hands high up in the air.

Then, realizing that it should not have been proclaimed so loudly, he slapped his hands over Del’s mouth and went, “Sssh! Sssh!” It took him a few seconds to remember that he was the one who had yelled, and he let go of Del.

“Well, well, Ardaz at your service, Del, and very pleased to meet you I am! Ha-ha! I do daresay! A walking tale in my own yard! How very grand!”

Del tried to change the subject, hoping it might calm the frenzied wizard. “What are you looking for?”

“Looking for?” Ardaz echoed, again scratching his chin. “Who?”

“You,” Del said.

“Looking for me?” Ardaz cried, more confused than ever.

“No!” Del groaned. “When I first got here, you were looking for something.”

“I was?”

“Yes!”

“Oh, yes, looking for! Why, a feather, of course. An eagle’s feather.”

“What on earth for?”

“Earth?” echoed Ardaz. “I know that word. Earth.” He scratched his chin. “Hmmm… oh, well, it will come to me. To move that infernal rock, of course.” He pointed to a large stone resting on the eastern end of the glade. “Why else would I need a feather?”

“How can you move a rock with a feather?” Del exclaimed, growing ever more ready to pull his own hair out.

“You can’t, of course.”

Del moaned and slapped his hand across his forehead.

“Excitable chap, aren’t you?” the wizard said dryly, bringing a second moan from Del. “I need the feather for a spell. What else? What else? To levitate the rock out of my yard, of course.”

Del’s eyes lit up. “Magic?” he said, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “That I’d like to see. Maybe you could find the feather if you took off that hat. It’s way too big for you.”

“Too big for me?” Ardaz gawked. “Too big for me! Why, it’s my hat, how can it be too big for me? Of course it wasn’t, no, no, not when I had some hair, it wasn’t. But then the fire went ‘poof,’ and poof, no more hair, and you say my hat is too big for me. What nerve!”

“I didn’t know,” Del apologized. “I’m sorry.”

“Yes, yes, you are that, ha-ha! But then, of course you didn’t. How could you, after all?”

“I’d really like to see some magic,” Del said, trying hard to keep the old man focused. “Is there another way?”

“Another way to do what?”

“To move the rock.”

“Everyone knows that you can’t levitate without a feather,” Ardaz huffed. “But wait! Hmmm… perhaps there is another way. I do so very dearly want to get rid of that rock. Could go ‘kaboom,’ I think. What do you think, Des?” he asked the cat. Instantly, the cat let out a horrified shriek and darted into a crack in the tree.

“Beastly loyal, you know,” the mage muttered.

“Oh, well, I’ll do it! I will, I will! I do daresay. But oh, bother, where is my staff? I shouldn’t try it without my staff, no, no. Dear me, don’t tell me I lost that, too.

“I really shouldn’t try it without my staff,” he explained again to Del, but even as he spoke the words, his visage softened, touched, it seemed, by the profound disappointment etched on Del’s face. “Oh, well,” he said with a chuckle. “Who needs a staff anyway? Here we go, here we go!”

Ardaz scratched his chin and mumbled as he pieced together the rhymes of the spell. “Oh, yes,” he said finally. “That’ll do! That’ll do, I daresay!”

He cleared his throat and straightened his hat and began chanting in a mystical and arcane tongue and waving his arms in circular movements, but stopped fast when he noticed Del gawking at him. “Don’t look at me, you silly boy! Watch the rock!”

Del turned quickly, and Ardaz resumed his casting, and a few seconds later, kaboom! A bolt of lighting blasted from his hands and sundered the boulder into a million scattered pieces.

Del nearly jumped out of his pants. “Holy shit!” he cried. “How? What the-” He spun around and there was Ardaz, hopping around on one foot and flapping his hands wildly like some demented pigeon, wisps of smoke trailing from his fingers.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!” the mage shouted, but his voice was muffled, for his great hat had breached his nose and fallen completely over his head. “Ow, ow, ow, ow!”

“Are you all right?” Del yelled, rushing over to him.

“Yes, yes,” came the smothered reply. “Should’ve used my staff, I do daresay!”

Del lifted the hat from the wizard’s absolutely hairless head and was taken aback, for embedded in the middle of Ardaz’s forehead was a gem, a silvery moonstone.

“Was a good shot, though, wasn’t it?” Ardaz chuckled, shooting Del a friendly wink.

“Perfect,” Del agreed absently, his unblinking eyes riveted on the gemstone.

“What’s the matter, my boy?”

“That stone in your forehead-” Del began.

“My mark?” Ardaz asked.

“I’ve seen one like it.”

“It is the mark of magic. Not many of these lying around, you know. Oh, no no. Four, and no more in all the land. And not on display for anyone to see, ha. But where could you have seen… oh yes, you’ve been to Pallendara then, and seen the white pearl of Istaahl.”

“No, I’ve never been to Pallendara,” Del replied. “Did Thalasi have such a stone?”

“Eeeyiaaa!” Ardaz shrieked, jumping around wildly, eyes darting to and fro as though he expected demons to surround them at any moment. “Sssh! Sssh!” he cried, and slapped his hand over Del’s mouth. “Don’t speak that name! No, no!” He tightened his hand over Del’s mouth as he again glanced all about for signs of impending doom. The wizard had an incredibly strong grip, and try as he may, Del could not break free. Intent on his scan, Ardaz took no heed of Del’s struggling and didn’t let go until he finally, finally noticed that Del was turning a delicate shade of blue.

“Sorry about that,” Ardaz apologized. “But we mustn’t speak the name of the Black Warlock! An evil summons if ever there was one, I do daresay! He did have a stone, a sapphire, most powerful stone of all! Deep, oh the richest blue. Blue at first, mind you; but it turned black when his heart turned black, yes, yes, the blackest sapphire. You haven’t seen him, I pray!”

“The stone I saw was green. An emerald, in Avalon.”

“Clas Braiyelle,” Ardaz whispered, his voice even and much calmer, as if the mention of the beautiful witch had shot a sedative through his veins. “You’ve seen Brielle. You are blessed, my boy, blessed indeed. Please, you must tell me all about it.”

“Sure,” Del replied, “but first I have to give you something.” He pulled out the scroll and handed it to the wizard. “Bellerian gave it to me. He said that you’ll know what it’s about.”

Ardaz snatched the case from Del, popped off the cap, and drew out the parchment. “It is!” he exclaimed. “It is, it is! Oh, good! Stupendously marvelous!

“The spell,” he shouted in explanation to Del’s blank stare. “The spell to grow back my hair!