Spellwright

“The end game begins,” Fellwroth croaked. “It doesn’t matter that the sentinels know of me. We play on a field outside of Starhaven now. Should the wizards catch Nicodemus and bring him back here, I would have no trouble pulling him from their prisons. In fact, that’s my message to the boy: you and he are to return to Starhaven and place yourselves in the sentinels’ custody. I will use a sand golem to retrieve both of you the instant the black-robes have you.”

“What makes you think we would do such a thing?”

Fellwroth’s footsteps began to produce wooden thuds. Shannon frowned. Could they be walking across the drawbridge?

“You can’t feel it yet, Magister,” Fellwroth hissed, “but I have laced the muscles around your stomach with a Language Prime curse named canker. It forces the muscles to forge dangerous amounts of text. But I’ve edited this version to slow its progress. I call it logorrhea. It won’t kill you in an hour or even a day. It will grow stronger and stronger until it bursts your stomach. If fortunate, you’ll succumb to fever. If unlucky, you will digest your own entrails.”

Shannon could hear the wind rushing through the trees. Somehow they were on the dirt road outside Starhaven. What had happened to the guards?

“I will die screaming before I see Nicodemus submit to you,” Shannon growled.

“Tell the boy that only the Emerald of Arahest can cure the canker growing in your gut.”

“I’ll tell him to run as fast as he can.”

Fellwroth grunted. “If the boy runs, I will find him or he will die.” The monster pulled him hard to the right.

Shannon’s boots left the dirt road and began to swish though knee-high grass.

“Tell Nicodemus that if he submits to me, I will grant him partial use of the emerald. Tell him I will cure your canker.”

Shannon shook his head. “You’re a fool.”

The footsteps in front of him stopped. “Twenty paces ahead is a meadow where a horse is tethered to a low branch. I’ve spellbound your blue parrot to your saddle.”

“Azure,” Shannon said involuntarily.

Fellwroth laughed. “The sentinels had caged the bird in the stables with childish prose. Now go and tell the whelp what I have told you.”

“I’ll never-”

Two cold hands yanked Shannon forward by the wrists and peeled the fetters from his arms and legs. The old wizard gasped as the hands tore the censoring text from his head. His mind, restored to magic, reeled with shock. It felt as if icy needles were scraping across every inch of his skin.

“Tell the boy!” Fellwroth snarled, giving Shannon a shove.

The old wizard stumbled backward. His foot caught and he fell onto his back.

The only sound was that of footfalls on pine needles.

“I’ll die before I tell him!” Shannon shouted after the monster.

No reply.

“IT’S JUST IN here,” the elderly sentinel said.

Amadi was standing in the hallway of a small storage tower. Outside the evening sky was bruising purple.

The gray-haired woman standing before Amadi was a Starhaven sentinel, not one of her trusted Astrophell authors. “Magistra,” Amadi said, “I haven’t much time. The provost has demanded I prepare a report-”

“One of my younger riders found it on the road up from Gray’s Crossing,” the woman interrupted. “It was in the ditch, so it’s not surprising no one else saw it. Unfortunately, when the rider reported it, the guards didn’t believe him.” The old woman cast a short Numinous password into the door before her.

A frown creased Amadi’s brow. “Didn’t believe him about what?”

The old sentinel shook her head. “Best if I show you. I put it in here to prevent rumors.”

They walked into a room lit by candles. A young male lesser wizard was staring wide-eyed at something large and dark on the floor.

At first Amadi thought the object was a body. It was lying stomach down. Its left arm had been melted into a thin rod. Small pools of metallic blood had frozen around the thing’s shoulder and chest.

“Los in hell!” Amadi approached it. The thing’s face was human but for the rectangular window opening into its brow. She bent closer. The head was hollow.

“Pure iron,” the woman behind her said. “Took two wizards and a mule-drawn cart to haul it up here.”

“Shannon, it seems I owe you an apology,” Amadi murmured. “Monsters made of clay and metal.”

“Magistra Okeke!” Amadi turned back to the door. “Magistra!” It was Kale.

Amadi groaned. “Every time I see you, Kale, I get more horrible news. So before you tell me something else, let’s take care of this.” She nodded to the iron carcass. “I need three trusted sentinels to carry it up to the provost’s grand hall. And I want Shannon awake and ready to answer more questions.”

“That’s just it,” Kale panted. “Shannon’s gone.”

“Gone?”

“Someone took him. The guard is dead. The text about the cell was disspelled and the door was knocked down from the outside.”

Amadi’s mind came alive with questions. Who would want to take Shannon from her? The golem monster? How was she going to explain this to the provost? “Do we know where his captor took him? What direction they went?”