Diary of a Conjurer by D. L. Gardner Read Free Book Online Page B

and the
brightest bolt of lightning anyone had ever seen struck them all.
Do you see that peak up there, standing tall like a pillar, split
with black coal down the center?”
    The boy nodded, his blue eyes wide with fear
and awe.
    “It was in the crack of that rock that
Meneka turned into a fire-breathing dragon. He saved us from the
evil of the East. And his magic still hovers deep in the caverns of
the mountain. He’s to be feared. Revered. We follow his will, young
man, and call him master. And your children will, too. He made the
village of Menek what it is today.”
     

    Tale of the Four Wizards
    Kaempie
     
    The Cove
     
    “Get down, Meneka. They’ll kill you.”
Kaempie reached for his bow but it slid from his grasp. With a
sudden tip of the skiff and a splash, Meneka was in the water,
leaving Kaempie to contend with the onslaught of arrows shooting
his way. He scooted onto the seat and picked up the oars. His
muscles tight, his body pumping fiercely, the skiff caught the
western current and skated along the coast, past the bluff, and out
of sight of their enemy.
    The voices of his attackers faded into the
sound of rolling waves as his boat rode the breakers into a cove
and skidded to a halt in the sand. Kaempie jumped out and pulled
the weathered vessel higher up the beach. The shadows of the tall
stone cliffs surrounding him chilled the already damp air. He
shivered more at the thought of what might have happened to his
friends than from the cold.
    Taking a breath, Kaempie looked out to sea.
Far away, somewhere in that forested horizon on the Bandene coast,
were Silvio and Reuben, the two wizards that had set out from
Taikus with him and Meneka the night before. They were supposed to
have stayed together. But in the dark of night, fool-hearty Meneka
launched the boat in high tide, and Kaempie almost drowned in his
attempt to bring the boy back to shore. Instead of rescuing Meneka,
the lad rescued him. The stormy sea and heavy fog prevented their
return.
    What was worse, Meneka, in his pestilent
anger, dove into the water and swam directly toward the tribe of
natives attempting to kill them. Now he was gone.
    “Fool,” Kaempie kicked at the sand, tossing
the bowline into the skiff. He retrieved his bow and quiver from
the boat and slung them on his back, intending to find the young
conjurer and rescue him; that is, if he weren’t already dead.
    Too tired to swim, his shoulders sank as he
watched the surf beat against the towering rocks that sent splashes
of foam high into the air. To find Meneka, he’d have to climb over
the cliffs and approach the village by land.
    Kaempie realized how preposterous the feat
would be once he stood at the bottom of the butte, eyeing its
vertical incline. No stubble or brush or rock could be grabbed in
order to lift his body any distance toward the summit. The face of
the point was coarse from mussels and would easily tear at his
hands. Starfish, crab, and poisonous anemone lingered in the jagged
pools at his feet. Even a wizard’s strength has its bounds.
Climbing over this point to get to the other side would be
impossible. He’d have to find another way. A trail, if there were
one, that lead into the forest, over the hills and down into the
village. That would be his only hope.
    Kaempie walked the shoreline, searching for
a way up the bank. It wasn't until he discovered a split in the
cliff that his hopes were renewed. A shallow creek tumbled over the
rocky crevice and spread out onto the beach, wetting his toes,
eroding the sand, and meandering to the sea. He followed the stream
uphill, climbing huge boulders, and jagged rock. Once on higher
ground, Kaempie located a deer trail that followed the creek
through the forest. The hiking eased when he reached flatter,
softer ground, affording him a rest. Maple leaves gilded the mulch
under his feet with reds and gold hues.
    The musty scent of mushroom and pine brought
memories of his younger days on Taikus when he’d foraged