Mouvar's Magic

  Kelvin was thinking that the orcs were at the start of mopping up. At that moment a dragon came charging down the hill behind the dung-clads. Horace! But no, this dragon was bright gold in the sunlight and had large, swordlike teeth even bigger than Horace's. Kelvin shivered as the beast displayed the teeth and emitted a roar that was freezing to all who heard.

  The dragon charged through the fighting men, ignoring the human fighters but slashing with claw, snapping with teeth, lashing with tail every orc within reach. It was a formidably large dragon, and repeated sword thrusts did nothing to stop it. Time after time an orc's oversized sword swung right through the golden scales. Kelvin wondered that the beast showed no wounds and emitted no cries of pain.

  A second dragon came to join the first. Then a third dragon, a fourth, and a fifth. Now the dung-uniformed giants were fighting between and at the sides of the dragons, and everywhere the dragons scuttled, orcs were flung dead and dying to either side.

  "Oh, this is terrible!" Phenoblee cried. Her crest rose on her head in an extremely agitated manner. "They're only dragons! What's the matter with our warriors? Why don't they fight?"

  More and more dragons came charging over the hills. They were the full length of the orc army, attacking only orcs. Kelvin saw one big orc leap at a dragon's snout as the snout was down on a wounded orc. He had the impression that the orc's feet went through the snout as through a phantom, but the snout moved so quickly and the orc died so fast that he thought he must have been mistaken.

  Now the orcs were backing up. Some threw away their weapons. Heedless of wounded comrades and the few brave and foolish humans who had moved up to help them, they were running. Orcs in retreat? Unheard of!

  "Phenoblee, that must be the death-wish powders and coward vapors! And those dragons are phantoms!"

  "Tell me something I don't know, Kelvin."

  "Can't you stop it? Can't anyone?"

  "No."

  "I'm going to try!"

  "No you're not, Kelvin." Helbah made a move of her own and Kelvin realized she had him held in a spell of immobility. Well, boots and gauntlets would overcome her spell! He willed for them to do something for him—to leap from safety and into the midst of the enemy where his gauntlet-activated sword would cut down concealed wizards and warlocks and dung-clad fighters. Nothing, try as he wished, happened for him.

  "Now," Helbah said.

  Phenoblee raised her hands and made the downward sweep. Instantly a wind was blowing. It tore the dragons to shreds, exposing the wizards and warlocks and fighters who had been their magic guts. The orcs, astonishingly, were still running.

  "Can't you do something, Phenoblee?" Helbah asked. "I knew that I didn't have the power, but I thought that you—"

  "No protection against death-wish powders and coward vapors. Pharmaceutically the malignants are ahead of even orcs."

  "Then we're doomed."

  "We would be without a hero. Wait until they start up the rise, then release him. Kelvin, you blast the malignant army without exposing yourself. Just point the tip of your chimaera sting over the wall and give them a shock that will stop them. Ready, ready, NOW!"

  Kelvin found he could move. Now his gauntlets and his boots were moving him. He had the sting under his hands, butt firmly against the ground. In the crystals he could see the eager, inflamed faces of the enemy. He concentrated on drawing forth the planet's energy through the sting—of exploding it out in one big crackling lightning bolt.

  In the crystals he saw it—the blackened, screaming faces amid the charred and burning corpses. It was like that expression his father had—shooting fish in a barrel. Only this was no barrel with fish—this was impending doom outside the wall. Orcs, shivering and trembling, were climbing over the barrier. Orcs were throwing themselves flat, screaming, webbed fingers over their eyes. Obviously Zady's power had been great, but not, as it turned out, as powerful as the chimaera's.

  "Kelvin! Use your Mouvar weapon now!"

  Helbah's voice hardly penetrated as his body responded. Moved by the gauntlets more than by his own thought, he whipped out the bell-muzzled weapon and pointed it just at the wall. His finger triggered, and—

  On the other side of the barrier there was an explosion. Bits of cloth and flesh and metal rained all about them, pieces of something that would give him nightmares landing and sticking on his face and arms and head.

  "Well, at least the old buzvald had good aim!" Helbah remarked. "You countered that warlock's magic but he did hit you—with himself."

  Kelvin wanted to vomit. He turned his head aside, ready to empty his stomach. At that moment Helbah grabbed his arm.

  "Some still coming. Another shock, hero."

  He knew he couldn't, but he did. The gauntlets knew just how to raise the sting and point it, and possibly helped him fire its bolt of energy. The energy exploded with charred bits of flesh as the lightning arched up over the barrier and down with a resounding crack.

  "That did it! Now they're retreating! Give them a few parting bolts!"

  Watching the crystals he saw the lightning strike retreating dung-clad soldiers and destroy them. Mercenaries never to gain the rewards promised them. He saw their bodies fly in all directions even as the dazzle came and went in his eyes.

  Lightning, lightning—Master of Lightning, he thought. But it wasn't him exacting revenge and retribution in defense of those he loved—it was something far greater than himself.

  "Kelvin, Kelvin, snap out of it!"

  Dazed, he realized that he had just about wiped out the enemy, and then he saw it, there in the crystal—even more enemy than there had been, coming with the floating copper shields above their heads. Experimentally he fired a bolt and watched it sizzle and leap in a blue line from shield to shield before striking the ground to one side. Zady had reinstated her sting defense.

  "Ebbernog," Kelvin suggested.

  "Oh, Kelvin, the lad's burned out! Didn't you see the way he looked? He'll never be able to move things with his mind again! He won't be able to use his mind at all unless we finish this battle and Phenoblee can cure him. Kelvin, you must get Horace, or if not Horace, the opal! Get it now, immediately; it's our only chance!"

  "I'll try," Kelvin said, and took a long, long step. As before he heard imploding fireballs and felt heat singe his back, and then a blur of green and brown continuing on and on and then his foot coming down, down, down to rest.

  He stood dizzily, hearing a dragon roar. He was at the spot where he and Jon had been when they had first adventured. They had slain a dragon, and then—

  But now was not the time for reminiscences. Hastily he sidestepped a golden dragon's maddened charge. It wasn't Horace, and he knew Horace had to be up in those mountains. He took a sight on a distant peak and stepped there. Clouds floated by on either side as his dizziness returned and his lungs fought to adjust to the height.

  So now where was Horace? That ledge over there—could that be the one Glint had talked about? He wished now that he had paid more attention. He stepped over to the ledge he had chosen, down to it, and standing, adjusting to the transference, he thought that yes, it did indeed look right. Down below him was a winding road where Horace might have come, where Glint and Ember had watched him in Ember's astral form. If that was the road and this the right ledge, he just had to go up mountain to find Glint and Ember's cave.

  He stepped up the mountain and he searched and searched until he did in fact find a cave. As he stood before it, looking inside, a smell drifted out that had to be of a badgunk, a creature noted for its ferocity and stink. Could Glint and his foster sister have lived here?

  "Skeeunk." The little cub looked up at him from glistening black eyes, then elevated its hips and broad tail and danced toward him on its front legs. A stinking shower was coming fast, and if baby was here at the entrance, could mama be far behind?

  He stepped, not quite fast enough. The spray from under the cub's raised plume caught him on the chest and stomach and partially on the face
. He put his foot down on the ledge he had recently left, bent over, and was sick. A bit later his boots took him to a pond of water and plunged him repeatedly into its icy grip.

  Many steps later Kelvin had to concede to himself that he wasn't finding Horace. All he was doing was stepping on mountains, stepping on cliffs, stepping in water. He was sopping wet most of the time and he still stank. He was stepping, stepping, stepping, and discovering nothing that could in any way help.

  Worst of all he was now lost. He was wasting his time while his sister was suffering. Because of his inadequacies Zady was going to win her battle and subject all those he held dear to unspeakable torment.

  CHAPTER 18

  In Search of Horace

  Merlain sat between Charles and Grandma Knight watching the faraway battle. It was almost too much to bear, all this killing. She and Charles and the royal pains had seen similar things when they were children, and then not in crystals. They had lain in the woods, fire all around, watching a soldier die. They had seen with wide, scared eyes dying horses and men. There had to be a different way, she had thought then, and thought so now.

  Charles, she thought to her brother. Carefully, she did not look at her grandmother or the pains. I think one of us should go get Horace.

  Charles' eyes remained on the action. Fireballs were zooming again. Thanks to the orc witch the Alliance had their defense. It was a standoff. But those advancing dung-clads with the copper disks levitated above their heads appeared ominous. She hoped her daddy had that handled.

  You know what Helbah said, Merlain. You know what Daddy said too.

  Charles, are you always going to listen to your father? We're grown-ups! We're smart!

  Smarter than Helbah? he asked, willing to believe.

  Yes! Just because she knows magic and has been around for centuries doesn't make her brilliant. Certainly we're smarter than the kings!

  Charles moved his eyes sideways to check. Kildom and Kildee, as if responding to a cue, were bringing fresh glasses of lemmieaid and a big bowl of magically popped corbeans. They sat there now, stuffing themselves, smearing butgen over their faces with every crunch. They watched first one crystal and then another, focusing on the killing. In theory they were studying strategy, but in fact they were enjoying the excitement.

  What do you want me to do, Merlain?

  I want to get Horace.

  Your husband tried that.

  But it's me Horace will listen to. He won't say no to me, Charles. To you, he might.

  So how will you do it? he asked.

  Take the belt. You know I can use it as well as Glint. I can be over in dragon territory and to the right place before you know it.

  I doubt that, Merlain.

  Doubt it all you like, I'm going.

  What do you think Grandma will say, not to mention the royal pains?

  I'll take the belt out of the cupboard and pretend I'm going to the privy. Once I'm outside, I'm gone.

  You're gone in the head, Charles opined. It was that sibling rivalry they had inherited from Kelvin and their aunt. You just want me to sit here and pretend I don't know?

  You don't know a lot of the time. But yes. All you have to do is keep your mouth shut. Grandma won't think about me being gone for a while. If she does mention it tell her I went for a swim. She won't be suspicious.

  You must not know Grandma—she's been suspicious of something ever since I remember.

  Oh, Charles, you know how snoopy women are. She's not quite a witch, but she does read the cards. Besides, it's just a grandmother's way to be protective.

  If you're going to go, Merlain, go. I'm tired of arguing with you.

  And you will keep your mouth shut?

  Don't I always?

  Merlain stood up and made a point of stretching. She started out to the kitchen, where she intended to grab the belt out of the cupboard and dart out the back door.

  "Where are you going, Merlain?" one of the redheads asked. She was like a big sister or cousin to them now, though once she and Charles had been physically the younger. Typical young brats when they were adventuring together, they still were.

  "Out."

  "Going to swim?"

  "Maybe later." How nice of them to suggest it for her.

  "I'm coming with you." The leer was naughty.

  "Not where I'm going, you're not." The suggestion of what she would be doing was perfect. She couldn't have planned it better.

  Royalty snickered. "I thought you were fidgeting. You sure you don't want help?"

  "No, I'll be right back." She went on, knowing that she would not be followed. What was it in boys their physical age that made them so crude? Of course Kildom and Kildee had been crude and bothersome enough when younger. How those freckled faces had lit when they had a chance to pinch a shapely bottom or look up some unwary woman's skirt! They'd had the time of their kid lives at the convention. Wearing the invisibility cloaks Zady had given them they had pinched bottoms, spied upon, and otherwise behaved grossly to their hearts' content. Thankfully the cloaks were past history, otherwise not a girl or woman in their kingdoms would feel safe.

  In the kitchen she opened the cupboard and took out the belt. She wrapped it up on itself, slipped it under her blouse, and held it there as she walked to the privy. Once she was inside she slipped the belt on, exited, and went around the building to the back. There were trees shading the necessary structure and a walk paved with half blue and half white flagstones; like all else here, the division was up the middle—two white stones on the left, two blue on the right.

  She put her finger on the belt's red button and mentally rehearsed the steps. She pushed the button, nudged the rise lever, and rose to just under the branches. Then forward along a path, then up above the trees.

  Learning to use the belt had been far easier than learning to ride a horse. Besides, the belt was faster. The only problem was the occasional bug colliding with her. Other than that, flying was, as her grandfather Knight said, a real breeze. She would have been enjoying the trip if it hadn't been for the circumstances.

  What had gotten into Horace? She just couldn't believe he would behave so irresponsibly. Could Zady have put a spell on him? Why hadn't Helbah or someone thought of the possibility? Maybe old Zady put a spell on them so that they wouldn't think of her putting a spell on Horace? If that were the case Zady had missed thinking of Merlain and Charles. The old witch might not miss many chances to plot evil, but she'd proven herself vulnerable when she lost her head.

  Faster than she had realized it would happen, the terrain changed. It started as farmland and occasional patches of wood crisscrossed with roads to wilderness. Soon the wilderness grew dense, and the land more mountainous. Ahead was dragon territory, and high in the territory's roughest mountains was where Glint had found Horace and Ember. Merlain knew the spot well, having been deeply into her beloved's mind. Being telepathic, as her grandfather called it, had its advantages. If Daddy and Helbah realized how many were her advantages they would have sent her here themselves.

  Sooner than she had expected she saw the big rushing mountain stream, and the quiet pool shaded by trees and bushes—almost a garden with its flowers and ferns. It was like seeing it again, this time through her own eyes. She flew overhead, easily spotting the couple on the bank. She slowed, pushed the descend lever, and gently landed on the opposite shore.

  HORACE! HORACE, WAKE UP!

  Huh? Who's that?

  Merlain.

  Who's that, dear? the other dragon's thought came.

  Shut up, darling. It's my sister.

  We need you and the opal, Horace. NOW!!!

  Why? Ember needs—

  Horace, this is important!

  Nothing more important than Ember. She passionate mate!

  Horace, do you remember the ugly witch? Do you remember how she made me fall? Then Daddy cut her head off and stepped after me, and you swallowed the opal.

  "GROOMTH!" Horace said. Most dragons had poor memorie
s and didn't need to remember much, but Horace was her brother. He remembered, and the remembering made him angry.

  Horace, that old witch is back! She's got a new young body and her old, ugly head! She's come back to get the opal! She'll take it from you! And she'll make me walk off the cliff again! Only this time she won't let Daddy come after me!

  "GROOMMTH! GROOMMTH! GROOMMTH!"

  Yes, Horace, I knew you wouldn't like that. That's why I'm telling you. Only you and the opal and maybe Daddy can save me. Help me, Horace, help me!

  Instantly Horace was by her feet. He looked down at her with concerned red eyes, his tail wagging nervously from side to side. Truly, she had him now. He would return with her the way she wanted.

  "GROOMTH! GROOMPTH!" Ember protested. From across the pond she seemed far smaller than she actually was and as forlorn as an abandoned kitup. She must have become used to Horace's opaling, but she wasn't used to his leaving her.

  Don't go, Horace! Don't trust sister! Humans are for eating, and some of them are tough! Stay, Horace, stay!

  Shut up, beloved! This is family.

  But Horace, I need loving! It's only been a couple days and a couple nights! What kind of lover are you, anyway?

  Merlain had been wondering about that herself. She and Glint had had quite a time after their marriage, but continuous sex had turned out not to be practicable. By all accounts, dragons were less inclined than humans. How was it that these two had been so constantly avid? It was evident that it wasn't just Horace's desire; Ember was just as eager. Something more than romance or telepathy was operating here.

  Suddenly she had her answer. Dueese were mating on the water, raising and lowering their wings and beating the water to a frenzy. Across the pond two mustters, their oily coats gleaming, were locked in an embrace of lovemaking. She herself, she recognized, had an urge that only her husband could satisfy.

  Ember, she thought quickly, the old witch made plants grow here to keep you passionate and occupied. She did this so that Horace would not come to kill her and she could kill all the rest of his family.