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8/3/2019 The Mage's Servant - Extract
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The Mages Servant - Extract
P. B. Dillon
CHAPTER ONE: THE MAGES SERVANT
Willem wasnt the sort who longed to go on wild quests in strange lands.
Thoughts of such adventures scared him. He would have been content to spend the
rest of his life just like this, standing in his masters kitchen, elbow deep in a sink
filled to the brim with steaming suds, never having any adventures at all.
The plates and glasses all done, he picked up the first of the pots and
wondered which tool he should use to scrape the layer of encrusted gunk off thebottom. Scrubbing brush? Knife? Chisel?
Before he could make up his mind, he heard someone pounding on the front
door. He put the pot back into the sink. Let it soak, he thought.
The pounding repeated before he got to the door, this time to the tune of a
raspy voice swearing loudly. By the gods of boils and backsides, open up!
Had he been anywhere else, such blatant anger would have frightened him,
but here, in his masters home, Willem felt safe. Instead of opening the door as
swiftly as possible, he paused to listen.
The raspy voice continued to swear. Son of a maggot! it said. Fungus andfilth! Why do I waste my time?
Willem smiled, enjoying the colorful language, but the tirade soon died down
and the banging stopped.
He waited for a handful of heartbeats, heard a more distant, Pox! then
swung the door wide.
A very short man was striding away as if he meant to walk through the gate
without opening it. The man wore what looked like oversized mages robes
except for the color. Willems master, like every other mage in the land, wore blue.As far as Willem knew, no one wore purple.
Can I help you? Willem called.The man whirled. He glared from beneath heavy brows and stomped back up
to the door. He was short enough that when he thrust out his chin, his nose almost
touched Willems facebut he was very bulky and looked strong. If you were my
servant, Id have you flogged for tardiness. Do you know how long Ive beenstanding here beating my knuckles bloody against your door?
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Willem took a step back, but he was still in his masters home. Still safe. I -
Im sorry, he said. Master Palmanders house is quite large. Somesometimes
guests can stand here all day and nobody will notice.
The lines of bitterness that creased the skin between the small mans brows
remained. His mouth continued to curve downwards at the corners.
Nervous now, Willem stepped aside and gestured the man inside. Come in.
Make yourself comfortable. If-if youll give me your name, Ill tell my master
youre here.
Thats more like it, the man said and shouldered his way past. He chose a
seat and put his feet up on a stool. Despite the days warmth, he pulled his robes
tight.
Willem waited.
The man noticed and leveled a glare that could have spl it a rock. Well? Go
get your master!
And, um, when I find him, who should I say is calling? Lord Gothar, thats who. He said it as if it were the most important name in
the land, as if Willem should have known it already. Now go, before I lose my
patience.
Willem nodded, bowed politely and left.
* * *
He found his master in the small garden that separated the house from the
forest behind it, but didnt approach right away. Gothar had unsettled him. Willem
didnt like being intimidated, so he waited for a while in the shade, happy enough
to ignore their visitors demands for haste.
Palmander stood amid a colorful cloud of longtailed butterbirds. More than a
dozen of them buzzed about on invisible wings, darting down to drink from the
shallow dish that the old man held cupped in his hands, or to alight briefly on his
narrow shoulders or the thinning hair at the top of his head. One of the birds,
hovering in mid-air, latched onto a single long hair from Palmanders beardpure
white and fragile, like all the restand flew backwards, trying to carry its prize
away. The ageing mage smiled. When the hair refused to come free, the bird gave
up. It flew back to the dish and drank again.Palmander played with the birds for another few minutes, letting them do
what they wanted and chuckling at their antics. Then he turned the dish over and
said, Thats it for the moment, my pretty friends. Fly away now, and come back in
a day or two. Ill have more nectar for you then. The birds took him at his word,but they didnt go far. Many reached only the nearest branch or rooftop before
landing, fluffing out their feathers and beginning to preen.
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Palmander reached for his staff, which stood upright even though it had no
visible means of support. As soon as the mage touched it, the jewel mounted at the
tip glowed a cheerful red.
Now, he said, finally acknowledging Willem. Have you come to tell me
that youve finished the dishes? His voice was warm and resonant despite his age.
Um, no. Not yet. Ill do it later. Youve got a visitor.
Oh? Who?
He called himself Lord Gothar.
Hmmm. Im not sure I know him. Is he a lord of the land or a mage?
Um, I dont think hes either. He wears mages robes, but they dont fit him
properly, and theyre purple, not blue. Kind of worn and faded
Purple? Are you sure?
Willem nodded, and Palmander frowned. Nobodys worn purple for ages. Is
he really old? Older than me?
No, younger. And really short.Hmmm. Cant be him, then. He shook his head and brightened again. No,
it cant be him. Did he tell you what he wanted?
Just told me to fetch you. He wasnt very nice about it either.
Wasnt he? Curious. The old man seemed thoughtful. Then he laughed and
said, Well, there isnt much point in staying out here then, is there? Lets go in
and find out what he wants.
But when they reached the sitting room, Gothar wasnt there. Palmander
turned to his servant and raised an eyebrow. Willem shrugged, privately pleased.
Maybe he didnt want to wait.
Maybe.
Gothar chose that moment to stalk in from the direction of the study. He
stopped beside the potted tree in the doorway and scowled at Willem, completely
failing to see the old man. There you are. Didnt I tell you to make it quick?
Willem flinched, but Palmander answered for him. Im afraid its my fault he
took so long. I was busy when he came to fetch me.
Gothar whirled. His eyes widened and his demeanor quickly changed. Um, f-
forgive me, my lord, he stuttered, I didnt mean to imply ... I mean, I didntrealize....
Palmander dismissed the apology with a wave of his hand. Think nothing ofit. Im sure youre a very busy man, so why dont you sit yourself down and tell
me why youre here.
Gothars face turned the color of blood. He glared hard at Willem and flopped
onto the indicated couch. Begone, he commanded Willem, as if he had a right to
do so. Get out of my sight.
Willem started to move.
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No, Willem, stay where you are, said Palmander.
Willem stopped.
What I have to say does not concern the boy. I dont want him around.
Willem is my servant. He does what I say, and would never break my trust.
He will stay until I ask him to leave.
And if I will not speak until hes gone?
Then I wish you a very good day, and bid you farewell.
Gothar said nothing. He shifted his glare briefly to Willem, then let it settle
again on Palmander. All right. You give me no choice, he snarled. I want your
help.
Willem didnt know what to think. He didnt like Gothar. The man scared
him. And yet he didnt want to be sent away. He glanced at Palmander, grateful
that the old man had told him to stay.
What sort of help do you want? Palmander asked.
Knowledge.There are many kinds of knowledge, and while my library is extensive, it
isnt all-inclusive. What did you have in mind?
Gothar didnt answer right away. Instead, he looked at Willem again, sneered
as if he loathed the sight of him, grasped the front of his robes and said, I want to
know how to use this! He pulled open his robes and flooded the room with pale
pink light.
Willem had seen enough of magical gemstones that he was less than
astounded. Palmander, though, leaned forward, peered into the glowing light and
muttered, The Jewel of Jaegeron, just loud enough for Willem to hear.
He blinked. Had he heard right? The Jewel of Jaegeron? Now he was
impressed. No, not impressed. Anxious. Scared. Everyone had heard of Jaegeron,
the Demon Master. A generation of mothers had used the name to scare their
children into doing what they were told: If you dont go to bed right now, Ill get
Lord Jaegeron to summon a demon to eat you all up!
Where did you get it? Palmander looked uncharacteristically fierce.
What does that matter? Its mine. Gothar pulled his robe back over the
jewel and held it closed. Well? Are you going to help or not?
Palmander regarded him for a long moment before he answered. Willem
could feel the tension in the air. No, I am not. What? What do you mean? Why not?
Why not? Because you arent just seeking knowledge. Youre seeking thekind of knowledge that could destroy everything we know. You want to master
Jaegerons Jewel. You want to summon demons. Of course I will not help you. If Icould, I would shatter the Jewel around your neck and nobody would be able to
summon any sort of demon ever again. Do you understand?
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Gothars eyes narrowed, his complexion reddened even more and the musclesof his jaw bunched and loosened as if he were grinding his teeth. Willem thought
the man would explode in a rage, but Gothar just snarled, I understand, in reply.
Good. Now, if you find yourself in possession of a less dangerous stone,
come back and I will help you as much as I can. As for now, you will have to
excuse me. There are some roses that require my attention. Willem will see you to
the door.
Gothar, though, didnt wait. Before Willem could move, the false mage
lurched out of his chair. When he reached the door, he spun and raged, Dont
think youve seen the last of me! Ill be back! And when I return, youll be sorry
you ever treated me like this! Youll be sorry! He turned, swept through the door
and slammed it hard as he left.
Willems fear faded immediately.
Well, said Palmander. It would seem I have to agree: he wasnt very nice.
* * *
Later that night, something broke the silence and jerked Willem awake. He
lay in his bed and stared up in the darkness. The noise soon repeated: a muffled
bang followed by a curse. Willem sat up, his heart thumping in his chest. He
fumbled in the gloom for his flint sparker. He used it to light the lantern beside his
bed and blinked in the sudden brightness.
Nervously, hesitantly, he climbed into his breeches and headed to
Palmanders room. Before he arrived, he heard more curses. He also heard his
masters voice raised in anger.
Willem didnt know what to do. Fear made him tremble where he stood. His
master might be in trouble, he thought. Even so, he hesitated for long seconds.
Finally marshalling his courage, he ran down the stairs and through the lounge,
skidding to a halt at the entrance to the study.
He found his master, dressed in a nightshirt, cap and slippers, leaning on his
staff and sifting through a scattered pile of parchments. He acknowledged Willem
without turning around. Its too late. The thief has already gone.
Willem surveyed the mess. About half of the shelves were empty. Books lay
strewn about, some damaged and torn. One of the windows had been shattered, andbroken glass lay on the desk with smaller shards glittered in the carpet. Thief?
Willem asked. He couldnt believe anyone would have the nerve to steal from his
master.
Palmander stood. Our friend Gothar. I heard the window break and camedown to see what had happened. I found him with a lantern, halfway through the
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shelves. I havent checked everything, but the most obvious lack is a treatise by
Jaegeron on the summoning of demons.
Is-is that bad?
Its bad enough. Fortunately, he didnt find Jaegerons more advanced
works. I keep those tucked away in my room.
Willem nodded, then asked the question that had been bothering him all
afternoon. Why didnt you take the jewel away from him?
I would like to say that its because I didnt want to judge him before he
committed any crime. But Id already judged him when I refused his request. No,
the real reason is that Jaegerons Jewel gives the wearer a kind of invulnerability.
As soon as our friend put on the jewel, a powerful field wrapped him from head to
foot, and that field keeps him from harm. I doubt that I could have removed it even
if Id tried.
Theres no way to get through the field?
None that I know of.Again Willem nodded. S-so what will you do?
There isnt much I can do. Ill tell the guards in town, and theyll arrest him
if they find him. Other than that, we can hope his talents are ill-suited to demon
sorcery, and we can warn the other magi to keep alert. The old man looked at the
broken window and shrugged. We can also make sure, if he returns, that he wont
gain entry so easily. So saying, he raised his staff and muttered a series of arcane
words that raised both the hair on the back of Willems neck and the broken glass
from the desk and floor.
The glass flew to the frame and fitted itself together so perfectly that it looked
as if it had never been broken. Something about its reflection told Willem that it
wasnt really glass any more, but something much, much stronger. Gothar
wouldnt get in this way again.
Palmander stopped muttering, lowered his staff and nodded to himself. I
guess thats the best I can do. We can leave this mess until morning.
CHAPTER TWO: GOTHARS RETURN
Several months later, Willem sat cross-legged on the floor of the cellar,
cleaning as usual.
Willem? Palmander called to him from the stairway. Come upstairs for a
moment, would you?
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Willem yelled back that hed be right there, gave a jar of pickled onions one
last wipe with his cloth, dropped the cloth over the edge of his bucket and padded
up the stairs.
He found his master in the study with his back to the door, running a hand
slowly along a low shelf, searching for something. His staff stood erect in the
middle of the room.
The old man half turned when Willem entered, and waved him into a chair. I
wont be long, he said. Just looking for.... Ah, here it is. He selected a book,
paused, then handed it over.
The book was a slim, velvet-covered volume Willem had never noticed
before. He read the title: Magic: An Introduction and Brief Lexicon, by Lord
Salisor. He stared, first at the book and then at Palmander. What ... what does
this mean?
It means that you are no longer my servant. If you choose to be, you are my
apprentice.Don-dont you need some kind of magical talent to be an apprentice?
Yes. Residue, we call it. The raw magic potential thats in everyonesome
more than others. You more than most. Why do you think I chose you as my
servant? And why do you think I forbade you ever to touch my staff? You were
tested long ago, and if you want, you can become a mage of rare ability. Unless
you prefer to remain a servant...?
Willem didnt know what to say. Could he be a mage? The thought terrified
him. And yet, at the same time, it appealed quite a lot. Much more than he would
have expected.
Maybe his life wouldnt continue as it always had. Maybe it would change
and maybe that would be all right.
He reached for the book and placed it reverently on the desk, then
looked to his master.
Go ahead, open it. Its yours, Palmander said.
Reverently, Willem opened it and started to read.
Magic: An Introduction and Brief Lexicon
by Lord Salisor
Firstly, and of utmost importance, I must state what should be
immediately obvious to any who practice the fringe arts: Magic is not a
science. There are no hard and fast rules as to its application, and you
cannot become a mage simply through the acquisition of knowledge.
Nobody knows why some people are born with the ability to change the
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world by force of will while others cannot, and indeed if it were known
why, it would cease to be magic and become a science. The very
definition of the word, Magic implies that there is something unknown
and unknowable about it.
Having said that, there are a handful of facts and suppositions
(five: two suppositions and three facts, and the occasional aside) that
can be used to gain an understanding of how magic works. These facts
and suppositions I have listed below, in some semblance of what I call
order.
1) The first supposition is important: everything else is based upon
it. Whether it is correct or not remains unable to be proven, but as of
now it is the best explanation available. The supposition is that every
rock, every droplet of water, every species of plant and animal,
everything that is able to be seen, touched, tasted or smelled was created
an unknown length of time ago by ancient and powerful Gods.2) The second supposition is this: if a being of sufficient magical
power creates anything, even something as simple as a piece of rock,
that rock retains some magical properties. This magical residue
remains consistent over time; it is an essential part of the rock. If any
mage in existence were able to create in the manner of the Gods, this
would be able to be proved or disproved. So far there has been none
powerful enough to do so.
3) (This one is a verifiable fact, as are the next two.) Three things
possess more magic residue that anything else. These three things are:
a) a certain type of crystal, b) certain words and c) people. It is assumed
that the reason for this is that the Gods used the crystals and the words
as tools to help focus their power, and as people are so much more
complex than anything else, the Gods by necessity took much more time
in our creation, and so more magical residue rubbed off.
4) The amount of magical residue is not the same for everyone.
Many people have only as much as farm animals. A very few have much,
much more. Nobody understands the reason for this; the variation
correlates with nothing. But it is important. If a persons level of magical
residue is sufficiently high, that person can alter reality by force of willalone.
Interestingly, not everyone strong in magical residue manifests it in
the same way. Some are good only at piercing the veils of time, for
example, while others may have a particular ability for controlling
weather. Oddly, the crystals appear to show similar affinities.
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5) Finally, if a person high in magical residue is in contact with one
of the magic crystals, that persons ability to alter reality is increased
tenfold. If they utter the correct Godspoken words, then again, their
power is magnified. This is not an indelible law, but rather a rule of
thumb, for if a person whose nature suggests healing the sick is in
contact with a crystal which eases the translation of one substance into
another, there will be only slight benefit, and indeed the powers may
work against one another.
As an aside to this last, there are other things not necessarily
greatly endowed in magical residue which can assist in the performance
of certain kinds of magic. It is known that living sacrifices assist in the
summoning of demons, as do the drawing of certain symbols in the earth.
It has also been suggested that the combination of certain vegetables and
other ingredients generates such an interaction of residue that odd
effects can occur. The fabled love potions and elixirs of life are the mostobvious examples. I mention these last only because so many believe in
their existence. I myself do not.
* * *
In the two hundred years before I put quill to parchment, there has
been no better theory that explains why magic works better. But such a
theory cannot be called complete without an inventory of Godspoken
words and their definitions. The following pages contain such records.
They are not inclusive by any means, but are designed specifically to
expose students to enough Godspoken words within each category to
indicate where their aptitudes might lie.
Willem flipped to the end of the book, closed it gently and turned back to his
master. Whe-wheres the rest?
Isnt that enough?
No. The first part says that a persons ability to perform magic is enhanced
through the use of certain crystals and words, but can it be done without? Why
does summoning demons require a sacrifice? Wheres the history? What are itslimitations? How much effort
Palmander laughed and raised his hands in surrender. Slow down, slow
down, he said. Youve only just begun, and an apprenticeship typically lasts for
years. For now, its enough that you learn the words in the back of that book. And
even that wont be easy. Those words have a habit of sliding away just as youre
about to speak. They take forever to memorize, although it can get easier with long
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practice. They also have a nasty habit of vanishing completely from your mind just
when you need them most. Nobody knows why. I guarantee that by the time
youve learned as many as you can, we will have gone into the history in such
depths that youll think you are drowning. The mage paused. Interestingly, it can
happen the other way as well. A word that proves all but impossible will become
clear at the most opportune time. Its rare, but He suddenly looked down at the
floor. What on earth...?
Willem turned to follow his masters gaze. What he saw surprised him. A
large, white rabbit sat on the rug, half-way between the doorway and Palmanders
staff. As they watched, the rabbit stood on its hind feet, pawed the air, sniffed
repeatedly, got down on all fours again and took two more hops towards the staff.
Tell me, my new apprentice, did you leave the back door open?
I guess so. The rabbit had nearly reached the staff. Ididnt know rabbits
came in that color.
They dont usually. An albino rabbit in the wild would make too easy atarget for predators. This one is probably somebodys pet. The old man stepped
towards the rabbit, and it froze. There, there, little one, Im not going to hurt you.
In one swift movement, Palmander caught the animal under its ribcage and
supported its hind legs with his other hand. The rabbit kicked out repeatedly and
the old man let it go. It scampered out of the study and disappeared around the
corner.
The mage showed Willem a long scratch on his palm and smiled. Thats
what I get for assuming it wouldnt mind being picked up. He gripped his staff,
muttered something under his breath and flexed his fingers. The jewel at the tip of
the staff pulsed red. Thats better. Come on. We have a rabbit to catch. The
scratch had healed.
Willem left his book on the desk and followed the old man out of the study.
Wh-where did it go? he asked.
Im not sureahh, there it is, on the stairs.
They caught up with it in Willems room, but werent quick enough to stop itdarting under his bed. Willem leaned on the wooden frame and peered into the
darkness. Now what? he asked.
Now we move the bed out of the way. Stand back. Palmander muttered
again. The bed rose until it brushed the ceiling. Willem could have stood under itcomfortably. The mage flashed a grin. There are uses for magic, after all.
Willem tentatively touched one of the legs that hovered in front of his eyes
then leaned as much weight on it as he dared. The bed didnt move.
Well? said Palmander. Is it going to fall, do you think? Willem shook his
head. Then what are you waiting for?
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Mindful of the scratch his master had received, Willem moved to his clothes
rack and selected a leather jerkin. He held it in front of him like a net. The rabbit
hunched against the wall, completely still except for an occasional twitch of its
nose.
Bang.
Willem hadnt pounced yet. The bang came from downstairs. He looked
questioningly at his master.
Maybe our friend brought a companion, suggested the mage. Tell you
what: you catch our friend here and Ill see whats going on.
Will the bed stay there? Or will it fall on my head when you leave?
It will fall only if I should let it, replied Palmander. Or if I should die, he
added as he left.
Willem moved slowly towards the rabbit. Its okay little bunny, he
whispered, its just me, everythings going to be all right, just be a good little
rabbit and stay right there, Im not going to hurt you. Its just my jerkin; nothingsgoing to hurt you at all. And then he lunged.
The rabbit neatly hopped to the side. Willem lost his balance and hit his head
on the wall. He heard Palmanders voice raised in outrage. Momentarily stunned,he shook his head to clear it and levered himself to his knees.
The rabbit grinned evilly.
Willem fumbled for his jerkin. Another voice, a grating one that he thought he
recognized, yelled an obscenity. Willem stumbled towards the rabbit. A rabbit,
grinning? Wasnt that impossible? He closed his eyes and shook his head again.
When he re-opened his eyes, the rabbit had vanished. A youth knelt on the
floor in its place. The youth seemed to be about Willems age, with Willems pale,
reddish hair and serious brown eyes. He wore the same green-colored servantsclothing and confused expression that Willem did.
Willem began to be afraid. He frowned, and the stranger did likewise. He
stood, and so did the stranger, copying his every move exactly but in reverse, like a
mirror. Wha-what are you? he asked, but he received only silent mimicry inreply.
Then, a particularly loud bellow came from downstairs. Raen, get in here!The doppelgnger grew taller, leaner and darker. It gave a nasty grin, stepped past
him as if he wasnt there and headed out of the room.Not knowing what else to do, Willem followed. When he reached the stairs
and looked over the banister, he hesitated. Gothar lounged contemptuously on the
couch with a glass of wine in his hand and a tray of cold meats on the low table
between himself and Palmander.
The thief had changed considerably. An oily smoothness and black tunic and
trousers had replaced the wild look and purple robe. But the mans nastiness
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remained. Willem could see it in the set of his jaw and the sneer that never left his
lips. Even now, months after the theft, Willem found himself both angry and
scared.
The little man turned his head disdainfully from Palmander and said, About
time. Now, old man, I want you to meet my servant, Raen. He drained the glass in
one swallow.
Palmander didnt turn. I have even less time for your servant than I do for
you. I will say this just once more: get out of my house. You have no business
here.
And I say youre wrong. Ill stay as long as necessary. And you will meet my
servant.
The shapeshifter reached the bottom of the stairs and approached the mage
from behind.
Willem felt very scared. Uncertain and confused. Considering his last
experience with this man, he didnt want to draw attention to himself, but he knewhe should tell Palmander what Gothars servant could do. Ma-master.
Not now, Willem, Palmander replied, his attention still on the thief. I have
no wish to meet your servant. The only thing I wish is for you to leave my house.
The only question I want answered is are you going to leave by yourself or do I
throw you out?
Gothar laughed loudly. Raen stepped directly behind Willems master. The
shapeshifter had moved so quietly that the old man hadnt heard him.
Master, Willem repeated, louder this time. He stumbled down a couple of
stairs, but still the mage ignored him.
You old fool, Gothar sneered. Do you really think you have the power to
tell me what to do? Do you have any idea who youre dealing with?
Im dealing with a liar and a thief. Im dealing with someone who sneaks
into other peoples homes and helps themselves to food and drink uninvited. Im
dealing with someone who thinks magic is for personal power and glory. Im
dealing with a fool.
Gothars face turned blood red. By all the gods, thats enough! I wont stand
for this! Raen, kill him!
Master!
Palmander spun just in time and, surprisingly nimble for one so old, dancedout of the way. Raen slashed the air where the old man had stood; its hands had
changed into knives. Palmander stared, and Willem surprised himself by charging
down the rest of the stairs.
Its a changeling! he yelled. Even Palmander needed to know what hefaced.
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Comprehension dawned in his masters eyes. The old man skipped
backwards, barked, Stay there! and the jewel at the tip of his staff flared red.
Willem found he couldnt move either to help orand this second notion appealed
more stronglyto run and hide. Still, perhaps he could watch the old man teach
Gothar a lesson.
Palmander muttered odd-sounding words under his breath, and the air in front
of the shapeshifter shimmered. Raens movements slowed, as if ithewas
swimming through treacle.
How dare you unleash such as this!? Willems master demanded.
I dare what I please.
Palmander didnt have time for any more questions. The shapeshifter had
stopped fighting the invisible barrier. It poured itself through to re-form on the
other side. Quickly, the mage started another spell.
Give it up, old man. Youre no match for my demon.
I might surprise you. Palmander completed his spell even as he backedfurther towards the wall. Vines burst through the floor at Gothars feet and coiledtheir way to his knees before shrinking and withering, as if touched by some
virulent poison. Gothar laughed.
Palmander summoned a wind that buffeted everything in the room, uplifting
rugs, sending the table crashing into a wall and tossing planters and pictures to the
floor. The changeling fought to stand, dropped, became a silvery sphere and rolled
through the wind. The thief, relaxed and comfortable on the couch, seemed
amused.
Palmander next tried fire, then ice, then turned the floor into glue, but the
demon matched every attack and kept advancing. Willems master retreated to the
kitchen. From there, the old man aimed bolts of lightning, brought down part of the
ceiling to no effect, and at last sought protection within a barely visible field of
force. The demon grinned, grew a dozen arms, wrapped the old man up field and
all, and squeezed.
Hold! Gothar cried. The changeling paused.
The expression on the old mages face remained defiant. He spat words at the
demon, unheard through the shield, his staff glowing brightly. The shapeshifter
stiffened, but did not loosen its hold.
Everything became silent.Gothar approached the mage and eyed him coldly. Dont even think of
mercy. There wont be any. I just wanted you to know, before you die, that I will
find Jaegerons other books, and I will be the most powerful mage in the world.
There isnt anyone who can stop me. Go ahead, Raen.
The demon squeezed.
Willem watched.
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The final battle was as noiseless as a graveyard at midnight. Palmander
couldnt be heard through the shield, Gothar said nothing, and the demon just
squeezed. Willem also stayed silent. His masters command still held.
The shield buckled, held for half a dozen heartbeats, then fragmented. The
translucent sections held their form for an instant before dissolving into nothing.
Willem saw his masters face contort briefly in pain, heard his truncated cry and
watched him relax one final time.
* * *
The demon held onto Palmander for longer than necessary. When it finally let
go, the mage fell to the floor with a quiet thump, as if all his bones had turned to
butter. The staff clattered loudly beside him. The changeling shuddered. Perhaps
Palmanders last spell had hurt it a little. It looked at Gothar and bowed.
Gothar stepped forward and kicked the mage solidly in the ribs. I told youId be back. And I said youd be sorry. He picked up the staff and hammered itagainst the floor until the crystal shattered. He cast the remains aside. Wheres the
boy? he asked.
In answer, Raen squeezed past his master and headed directly for the stairs.
Willem didnt understand. Palmander couldnt be dead; he was much too
powerful to die. Much too important. Willem kept looking at his master on the
floor, expecting him to get up and launch some new counterattack. But he didnt.
He just lay there. And Raen would reach Willem in a few short breaths.
He realized Palmanders spell no longer held him. Yet he stood as still as if
hed grown roots. He wasnt even afraid any more. He just felt numb.
Why wasnt Palmander coming to his rescue?
Raen loomed over him. The shapeshifter grinned and reached out, ready to
grab hold.
At the last possible moment, Willem lurched forward, rammed his head into
the demons torso and pushed past. He took two quick steps into the lounge beforehe realized that Gothars squat bulk effectively blocked any escape that way. He
turned, ducked back under Raens outstretched arms and flew into the study. He
grabbed the book of magic hed so recently been given and stuffed it inside his
jerkin. He remembered too late that Palmander had hardened the windows whenGothar first broke in.
Get him! he heard. There wasnt any choice; he raised his arms and flung
himself at a window. He struck palms first and it hurt. He heard laughter from the
lounge. Break, curse you! Break! he cried. The hair stood up on the back of hisneck. He hit the window again.
This time, it broke with surprising ease.
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