Chapter 16

The carriage reached the base of the western pass shortly before noon and paused just long enough for all of them to step out and relieve themselves before beginning the long climb up the switchbacks. They’d traveled quickly that morning since leaving the Vent, only stopping briefly at the inn to exchange the horses. Berg’s original team was now back in place and when Peter had seen how much better they were after their convalescent stay at the inn, he’d paid a bonus to the liveryman for his excellent veterinary care. Hopefully the crossing this time would be less eventful than the previous one.

Despite the absence of an ongoing battle between a dragon and a wizard, the weather was not as favorable as it had been during the previous crossing. Cold, overcast, and blustery, but at least above freezing. Peter had sympathy for Carth and Torl who rode topside huddled under extra blankets trying to stay warm from the cold wind descending the pass.

The traffic on the switchback trail was light but they were still hemmed in between lumbering cargo wagons so the ascent went slowly. They also had to negotiate the numerous oncoming wagons that’d already crossed the saddle and were in a hurry to get off the chilly pass. The oncoming traffic at least brought with it no warnings of trouble on the eastern face of the pass, which was a relief to all.

Peter passed the time reading from the spell book he’d been given from Sala. He thought he now understood the abatement spell well enough to move past it and had begun to browse through the remaining spells. When he got to the final spell, he was surprised to learn that it was another abatement and shielding spell, but this time working against the cold. He tried it with very low mental impetus and found to his amazement that he felt warmer. Maintaining the spell did cause a noticeable drain on his reserves, so he dropped it quickly.

The Mohennial had added a note explaining that the spell should work nicely if he had to butcher a cryo-dragon and handle a frost-crystal. She also said that it might also shield him from one of the dragon’s spittle attacks, but doubted that he would be able to cast it in time for it to be of use. She had written that he should simply ‘duck’ instead.

As before, they paused at the top of the pass to rest the horses and prepare the carriage for the descent. As on the previous crossing, Peter walked ahead, but this time with Carth, as Taylor was too cold. The woman was still recovering and had elected to remain napping inside the carriage under a heavy quilt. The lack of a seed pressing on her bladder had drastically increased her endurance and the carriage had had to stop far less frequently than before, allowing her to sleep.

The weather on the more-shielded eastern flank of the Sunsets was much improved, although the skies were still overcast. The Mirror Lake Valley and the higher Ryzeelund beyond looked inviting and serene. Peter was able to just make out the tiny Stoney Brook Inn nestled into its protected hollow. One thing he was pleased not to find on the east side of the pass was any sign of the dragon or the battle wizard.

“Ready to get back home, Carth?” Peter asked the young stableman.

“Yes, milord,” He replied. “Although I would like to see that lava plain up close someday.”

Peter just nodded in reply, not voicing his opinion that the black basalt feature was more impressive from the distance. Let the lad find that out for himself on some future trip. Torl arrived with the carriage and they retook their places aboard.

The descent down the east face was without incident and although Peter wanted to nap, he dared not. Instead, he remained awake, ready to deploy the fire-crystal weapon if Torl or Carth called out. An hour later, he was surprised to find himself waking when Taylor called up to the coachman asking him if they could stop for a short rest break.

Peter looked out the glass in the door and saw that they were off the switchbacks and onto the flatter road leading to the junction. He knew from memory that they would be at the Inn in less than an hour. Moments later, the carriage pulled into a bivouac spot and he joined Taylor in relieving himself.

Peter stepped inside the Stoney Brook Inn a little after four in the afternoon. There were only two other guests in the common room. Both of them wore Order uniforms and Peter looked closely at their rank insignia to see that they were engineers. He suspected that they were traveling to the high pass camps to oversee the repairs needed on the other side. Henri was absent but Bemi was working behind the bar, standing on a stool shelving cups and glasses.

“Lord Pete!” Bemi exclaimed, finally turning to see who had entered.

The lithe teenager set down her tray of glasses and vaulted over the bar, running towards him. He barely had time to set the fire crystal weapon case down before she jumped on him giving him a hug.

Taylor chuckled beside him. “The inn greets some of its customers better than others.”

Peter released Bemi who stepped back and inspected Taylor. “Hi, Taylor! I see you laid your egg.”

Taylor just shook her head with a sober expression. “It was not pleasant and yes, I am glad to be rid of the thing. Maybe someday when you’re pregnant I will tell you some of the details.”

Bemi caught Taylor’s residual anger and saw that it was directed toward Peter. She was smart enough not to continue discussing the subject. Peter was not surprised at Taylor’s emotional shift. He knew that as the plant’s effects wore off, the woman might start feeling resentful about the ordeal he’d caused her. He would have to watch her closely and kept a syringe of plant venom in his pack in case she grew out of control.

Bemi’s face suddenly turned worried, “Lord Pete!” she whispered urgently, “An injured Order wizard arrived at the inn yesterday and is now staying with us!”

“Where is this wizard now?” Peter asked.

“He left before lunch but returned an hour ago. He’s been up in his room with Mom since then. She warned me to stay away!”

“What room are they in?”

“The East room, just left of the top of the stairs,” Bemi replied. “I’m worried about Mom and I think the wizard suspects that I have magic!”

“I will go speak with him,” Peter replied. “Please help Taylor fetch the travel cases from the carriage and take them to my suite.”

He grabbed the weapon case and headed up the stairs to confront the Wizard. The door to the East room was locked and no one responded to his light nock so Peter had to use his master key. Inside, he found the old battle wizard lying on the bed asleep or unconscious. His robe was open revealing a blood-tinged bandage around his chest. Lower, his trousers were lowered exposing his slimy shriveled manhood. Peter looked closer and saw that the man was breathing steadily.

Closing the door behind him, Peter entered the room and moved away from the entry so he could see the area beyond the foot of the bed where the wizard’s legs dangled. There he found Henri laying on the floor also not moving. Peter knew instantly that Henri had collapsed from insufficient life energies after servicing the old wizard orally.

“Shit,” Peter said, dropping the weapon case and rushing to kneel beside the woman.

He rolled her over carefully and felt for a pulse. After many seconds, he detected a very faint beat. He scrambled in his tunic pocket looking for his emergency restorative potion. Once it was retrieved, he bit off the wax seal and pulled the cork stopper. Tilting Henri’s head back, and ignoring the line of semen splatter that covered her cheek, he slowly fed her the potion. He breathed a sigh of relief as he watched her throat swallow involuntarily.

“Good, you should live,” he whispered to Henri. “Fucking Wizard!”

He carefully arranged Henri so she was lying more comfortably, using a corner of the bedsheet to wipe her face clean of the bastard’s spunk. He then stood to address said bastard.

“Wake up!” Peter said, slapping the old man on one bare thigh.

“Urmf! “ The wizard exclaimed, jumping awake from Peter’s slap.

The wizard managed to sit up, wincing and holding his injured ribs. He looked around quickly as if trying to remember where he was before noticing his state of undress and the woman lying on the floor between his feet. He then looked at Peter.

“You almost killed her!” Peter said forcefully.

“She lives?” the old wizard said, looking too surprised. “This is fortunate! I wasn’t sure I would be able to stop the transfer in time. Fortunate indeed! I imagine the death price for the keeper of a nice inn like this would have been extreme.”

Ignoring his ribs, the battle wizard took a deep breath before pulling his trousers up and buttoning them in place. He then stood beside the bed and stretched.

“Hmmm. Better, but still not fully recharged,” he reported. “Is the innkeeper’s daughter still downstairs?”

“Yes,” Peter replied, stepping back from the wizard but still blocking the door. “But she is my ward and is not to be touched.”

“And who are you?” The wizard said, seeming to notice Peter for the first time.

“I am Lord Bent from Cursed Isle.”

“The Mohennial mentioned you,” the wizard replied with a scowl. “I am Senior Wizard Harkon on a mission in defense of the Order. I’m currently tracking a dragon, lad! I will say who I will draw from.”

Peter drew out his high Order mark amulet and displayed it to Harkon. “The Mohennial Sala has pledged the girl only for my use.”

“Hrrmph,” The wizard grumped, noting the mark. “I guess that what I took from the innkeeper will have to do.”

Peter had stretched the truth with his statement but fortunately, the wizard did not call his bluff. He suspected that Sala would have permitted to wizard to draw from Bemi as long as the wizard did not drain her completely, especially if it meant defeating the dragon in the end.

“Did you bring the weapon which the Mohennial spoke of?” The wizard asked, cinching his tunic closed tightly over his bandaged chest. He then double-tied his heavy combat robe. Peter noted that both the tunic and robe seemed to have embedded plates of padding or armor.

“Yes, it’s in this case,” Peter replied, raising the case so the wizard would notice.

As the wizard turned and bent to slip on his boots, Peter noticed that the back of the wizard’s robe had seen better days, with many holes the size of his fist blasted through it. Some of the larger holes had been covered with magically-adhering patches.

“Good!” Harkon said, grabbing his trident staff which had been leaning in the corner. “Bring the weapon and follow me.”

He quickly left the room heading downstairs. In the hallway, he noticed Bemi and Taylor about to enter his suite.

“Bemi, Your mom needs your help! She should recover with rest but fetch Torl to help carry her down to your quarters. I will check on her when I return!”

He hustled down the stairs after the Wizard who was already exiting the inn. Outside, the wizard stood waiting on the stone pavers of the court where the carriage had recently been parked. He was donning a pair of goggles and Peter realized that the wizard was preparing for airborne travel.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“We need to kill the dragon before it can fully recover,” the wizard replied while fumbling into a chest pocket of a robe and extracting two potion bottles. He quickly opened the first and drank it dry. He then opened the second before pausing as if considering something. He then drank half and handed the rest to Peter.

“What do you mean ‘we’?” Peter asked, accepting the opened potion bottle.

“No time! Drink that so we can remain in contact! Quickly now,” he snapped at the hesitating Peter.

Peter sniffed the potion before drinking it. It tasted as bad as it smelled but he immediately felt magical power fizzing through his body. His muscles felt stronger while simultaneously he felt much lighter.

“What was that?” he gasped.

“Have you ever flown before?” Wizard Harkon asked, ignoring Peter’s question.

“Not by magic!” Peter replied causing Wizard Harkon to look at him strangely.

“Whatever,” the wizard replied. “Get that weapon ready. You will need to act as my bearer as I won’t be able to hold it along with my trident while we fly.”

While Peter knelt on the stone walk to open the case, the wizard held his staff up and slowly spun in a circle, chanting while he did. Peter extracted the pistol and opened the breech, remembering to mutter the abatement spell which allowed him to extract the fire crystal cartridge without freezing his fingers. Even with the spell, the metal cylinder felt cold to his touch as he slid it into the rear of the gun and closed the action. He then stood with the loaded and ready weapon.

“Good!” The wizard exclaimed halting his spin. Peter saw that the trident was pointing to the lesser peak just north of the northern Tooth. “The beast still lies where I left it earlier!”

He then noticed that Peter was now holding the pistol at ready.

“Is that the weapon?” the wizard asked, tilting his head as if studying the pistol. Peter was surprised at the wizard’s unfamiliarity.

“Yes. It’s loaded and ready,” Peter replied.

“Good, how do you ... invoke it?”

“It has a trigger on the bottom ... see?” Peter explained, turning the weapon over. “You point it at the target and squeeze this metal finger,” he then pantomimed aiming and firing the pistol even vocalizing the ‘bang!’

“Ah ... Like a crossbow then?” Wizard Harkon asked.

“Yes, like that,” Peter answered. “You’ve never used a weapon like this before?”

“Of course not!” Harkon replied dismissively. “They were kept in the forbidden reserves.”

He then gestured towards Peter. “What battle magics do you possess, Lord Bent?”

“Nothing that can be considered a true battle magic, Wizard Harkon,” he replied, “Although I do excel at masking and concealing spells.”

“You’re a thief mage then?” the old wizard scowled. “I’m surprised that we have not been warned to be on the lookout for you.”

“I served in the Order, sir,” Peter replied in his own defense, “and I’m a law-abiding citizen under Order authority.”

Well, mostly law-abiding, he thought to himself. Neither his deadly plant hobby nor his illegal usage of an unreported inter-dimensional portal was exactly ‘legal’.

“Whatever,” Wizard Harkon said dismissively. “I remember sensing you on the pass the other day. I will look further into your exploits when this business is done, assuming we live, Lord Bent. For now, cast your strongest cloaking spell on us before we leave.”

Peter began chanting out the words to his modified sensory shielding spell. He tried to keep the words too quiet for Harkon to overhear but suspected the old wizard had caught some of the words. It was doubtful that another could use his spell as effectively but now was not the time to worry. While Peter chanted, the wizard was busy pulling on long gloves consisting of magically-enhanced leather.