American library books » Fantasy » Wizard of Jatte by Rowan Erlking (librera reader txt) 📕

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dumped the pieces under the pot then took out his knife and flint again. “He’s harmless.”

That made the birdman smirk. However, he bowed low to the woman with a smile, trying to be proper in the way Theissen was when he had introduced himself. “I am Theobold Whitefeather of the Jadoran Forest, a birdman.”

“Birdman?” The woman echoed, glancing back for her husband. So far he had not returned. Of course, running back up that hill would take some time.

A demon,” Theissen said. Finally he got a flame on the small tinder. He crouched down to blow on it.

The shopkeeper’s wife’s eyes grew wide. “A…”

“I got firewood!” The shopkeeper shouted out. His face was red, but he grinned as he ran up the hill. He dropped all of them at the side of Theissen who was already beaming at the small flame he had started with his bit of wood.

Theobold scratched under his cloak, frowning at the pot. It wasn’t even simmering yet. However, Theissen quickly rectified that by adding the wood, increasing their flammability by drying the pieces out and pouring off any dampness to the side. The shopkeeper and his wife both stared as the carpenter’s son went to his work. Using bits of magic here and there, Theissen stoked the fire. Soon the liquor and spices simmered quite well in the pot. Theissen stood up to stir it.

“Ok, here is the tough part. All of you stand back as I do the spell.” Theissen dipped his long handled spoon into the pot, stirring it so the spices were evenly distributed in the liquor.

Everyone took a very large step back, giving both wizard and fire a wide berth.

Stirring it clockwise as it started to boil, Theissen made sure he faced north, checking the pull of the flow for accuracy. Then beginning at the northern side of the pot he recited the spell from the book. “From the North come the fires in the fields. From the East come the blazing rising sun. From the South come the searing desert air. From the west come the sultry setting sun. Come into one.” He then stirred in the opposite direction, starting again at north. “From within burn the fires of desire. From without burn up the enemy with fire. Seek out the spiders that infest this tower and city and consume all.”

He tapped the edge of the pot.

“Burn.”

Almost immediately the mixture in the pot caught fire, including the bottom half of the spoon Theissen was holding. It glowed hot, flaming with a fury like a weapon. It startled even him. He almost dropped it.

But catching the handle, Theissen called out to Theobold. “What does the book say next?”

Theobold snatched the book from the ground and immediately flipped to the page. “It says you had better use that stick and stick it into where you want things burned. It also says you better be cautious with it since it could start a real fire if you aren’t careful.

Nodding, Theissen walked straight to the tower doorway with the flaming spoon in hand, calling out. “Burn all those spiders in there.”

He struck the rod against the ground inside the shadow.

At first the flames were small, searing all over the ground like a ripple of light, but then it spread, rippling over the entire floor in reds and yellows. And the black inside moved forward.

Theissen staggered backward. Like a crawling ooze, the spiders scrambled to get out the doors. “Oh! Bad! Bad idea!”

He ran back to the small pot in the fire ward and snatched it up. With one large throw, he tossed the liquid fire at the tower, screaming out, “Burn all the spiders up quick!”

Nothing could describe the sudden force that seared the air. Gushing with a wind that surrounded them, a whirling vortex, flames licked every stone, flooding inside the tower and all the houses around them.

Theobold yowled, tossing off his robe and flapping his wings furiously as little flames licked his feathers in tiny wisps. Each one bit and stung. The others in the courtyard clung to each other, all watching Theissen standing in the center of the cul-de-sac as if he were blowing the gale himself. His face fixed with a stare at the flume of fire scorching all stone and wood around them black.

Then the flames pushed out from the tower in a concentric circle, licking the homes down the hill all around them. Threads of flame spread throughout the city in a flash. Then, in a puff, it was instantly gone.

“What was that?” Teppan gasped, letting Ronen and Daanee go. He was still shaking.

Theobold shook off his feathers again. He flapped hard with a glare at Theissen. “That hurt!”

“You had spiders on you.” Theissen looked back with a shrug, his eyes a little glazed. “I guess they hitched a ride when you got me that wood. They must have been starved.”

The birdman shuddered again, flapping his feathers more to shake off all the spider ash with disgust. He hopped straight to a rooftop.

“Now that was a fire,” the shopkeeper’s wife murmured.

Theissen looked back with a smirk and nodded.

Chapter Thirty-Seven: I Can Fix That

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“So, is it safe?” Ronen asked. He watched Theissen stroll straight through the tower’s doorway into the dark. It looked just as pitch black inside as ever.

Peering up at the darkness above, Theissen nodded, eyeing the flow in it to be sure. “Yeah. But look at this place. It wasn’t just infested. It was like an army hiding in there. They could have taken over the city at any time.”

The shopkeeper shuddered. He had remained outside with his wife, not daring to step in.

“But is it safe?” Ronen asked again, keeping his distance also.

Theissen smirked back at him. “All that is left in here is ash, Ronen. It is safe.”

“All that is ash?” Teppan rushed to the doorway peering in now with more courage, especially since Theobold was outside sulking on a rooftop from getting singed. He was always striving to prove he was the better man.

Scuffing his shoe against the floor, the ground crunched under his boots. “Yes. Ash. And lots of it. It will take a major amount of cleaning to get this place in order.”

“So, you really intend to move into here?” Teppan squinted his eyes, struggling to make out the shapes in the darkness.

“I intend for us to move here, aside from running that inn of course.” Theissen then waved towards the walls. He whipped up a wind that scraped off a layer of ash. Already the black particles floated down in piles around him. Most flaked off the walls. He grunted then walked to the far side of the tower. “Look. Stairs.”

“I can’t see anything but blackness.” Teppan walked gingerly over the blackened floor. Everything crunched under his feet. But Theissen had not lied when he said it was safe. Every single spider that had been in the tower was dead.

Stopping, Theissen nodded. “Actually, I can’t see much either. I can feel it. The stone curves up. All the walls are strengthened by a spell. This place…it’s amazing.”

“But I can’t get in!” Theobold snapped from the doorway, flapping his wings as his he were hitting window glass.

Theissen turned, staring. “You—” He blinked at the birdman then crossed back to the doorway. His eyes went down to the ground, examining all the cracks and markings in it. With one long step, he crossed back over the threshold, then turned around to examine it in the sunlight. “Well I’ll be. It’s a demon ward. And a proper, universal one too.”

“A what?” Theobold followed Theissen as he turned and walked along the outside wall. The wizard crouched down to examine what they had all thought was just decoration. The building was covered in such writing.

Tapping a line of black stone which was inlaid perfectly in the ground among the cobbles, he found each point of the compass marked in a strange yet familiar foreign language. Theissen gestured to the markings. “It is a spell. A ward that demons cannot cross.”

Flapping angrily, Theobold tossed up his arms. He huffed. “Well that’s great! You pick a home that I can’t go in! I’m banished from the forest, and now I can’t stay here! Why did I come all this way with you?”

Theissen could see his friend was truly upset. He would be. However, it was obvious that the people had made this tower as a defense against all threats. The demon threat perhaps felt more real to them than any other. Theobold was already looking like he would fly back to the forest. His face had gone red, still displeased at the indignity of being singed. He was also dusty from ash.

“I can fix that.”

His expression sour, Theobold frowned. “You can? How? You like this place. I can tell.”

Sighing, Theissen peered around the tower. “I can change the stone color back to gray. That will annul the spell, for starters.”

“You mean there never was a demon in there?” the shopkeeper asked. He bent over to look at the markings also.

Smirking, Theissen had nearly forgot he was there. He gave the man a nod. “Not one demon could even enter the place. Theobold can’t.”

“Fix it,” Theobold said to him.

Estranging his friend was not a good idea, and not what Theissen had intended with that journey. He went directly to the black stone, crouching down. With a singular touch, the black rippled to a dusty gray color. Simple magic.

Theissen looked up to his birdfriend. “Try that.”

His face screwed up with determination not to be left out, Theobold nodded sharp and marched boldly back to the tower front, going straight through the doorway. He came out grinning. “Ok. Much better!”

He then flapped his broad wingspan, launching up into the sky. He flew straight to the top of the tower, where there was an open landing. He roosted there.

Theobold shouted down to their group below. “Now I want to show you something, but you have to come up!”

“That means find the stairs,” Theissen said to the others. He chuckled with a snort, wondering of Theobold was doing this as payback.  Birdmen had such weird senses of humor.

Theissen gestured with his hand. The fire that still burned where the pot had been, crawled over the cobblestone along with the wood as if it were a living creature. It slid out from the protective ward, which Theissen had pulled apart to free the flames. All of it came with him into the tower. There he left it in the center of the circular floor, burning among piles of black ash as if it had been originally made there. Everyone followed the flames, uneasily looking at Theissen who was bust examining the darkness for the stairway.

The fire did not give much light against all that black, though Theissen went forward as if he could see. The others did not follow at first, still hesitant to enter a place so black. Theissen’s feet crunched through the ashy arachnids to a wall covered in the things. There he dusted off a melted-looking candle propped in a wall nook. Prying it out of the nook, Theissen, carried it back to the fire and lit the wick. He gestured for the others to follow after him. Somehow he found a set of

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