Aquamancer (mancer series Book 2) (15 page)

“I’d leave the boat but I prefer not to walk the rest of the way to Pfantas, if I can help it. As for the ‘firefly thing,’ I’ll do it when it gets darker, although this place seems remarkably clear of insects. Haven’t seen a fly or a mosquito all day.”

“Their sort likes only still water,” explained the Sea Otter, curling himself into a comfortable ball before the fire. “There’re a few birds, however.”

Douglas looked up, following his gaze.

“Crows? I don’t trust them. Crows are too often Witch friends, Bronze Owl says. They enjoy making mischief. Even if those crows aren’t actually someone’s lookouts, you can’t trust them to keep their beaks shut. Caw and blab everything to anyone who’ll listen when they see a free meal or two for their troublemaking.”

After full dark he compounded the green-and-white bead again and dropped it into the fire as before, but no insect informant appeared.

“Huh! Nobody home,” snorted Marbleheart.

Sleep was much closer. They both were drowsing in their blankets.

“Careful!” Douglas warned Marbleheart, who lay quite near the flames. “You’ll toast yourself!”

“Not I!” cried a new voice.

Douglas sat up slowly and saw the tiny speaker in the heart of the campfire, basking in the glowing embers.

“A Salamander!” he cried in surprise.

“Oh, one of those Fire Lizards I’ve heard about,” said the Otter. “How do you do, Sally Ann?”

“I love your fire! We usually have to wait ‘til noontime for such warmth, especially in this chilly place.”

The three-inch-long lizard ran up a glowing branch and dived into a pool of blue flame, rolling ecstatically over and over.

“There’s something different about this fire,” he observed, stopping to peer up at the travelers. “It doesn’t quite feel like a common, ordinary fire to me, and I’m a sort of expert.”

“That’s because it was magically kindled,” replied Douglas. “How far did you come to answer my call?”

“I live nearby in nice, safe cracks in the cliff face where the sun strikes best and there’s no claw-hold for a hungry crow bent on lizard for lunch. Usually I’d be sound asleep by this time of night, but this evening I told my wife that something unusual was happening here on the beach, and I wanted to investigate. She said I was crazy, but I came anyway. Then I felt your calling.”

Douglas explained, “I was calling for information.”

“I’ll be happy to oblige, if I can,” said the Fire Lizard, coming so close they could feel his heat radiate on their hands and faces.

“You see the boat there,” began Douglas, and he explained their predicament to the hot little lizard.

“Yes, I can see where the boat would be a problem, even if you could climb the cliff. Well, I can’t help you much myself, but there are those who might be able to. The Cliff Swallows, for instance. They travel quite far afield looking for food, you see. I’ve never been above the rim, myself, so I don’t know what’s beyond.”

“In the morning I would love to make the acquaintance of the Cliff Swallows,” said Douglas. “In the meantime, I suppose we’re safe enough here?”

“Safe as sulfur matches—whatever that means,” said the Salamander. “It’s something my grandmother always used to say.”

They chatted awhile about families and fires, the Salamander being very interested in a Wizard who specialized in his own favorite element.

“I had a great-uncle, now long departed, who was a Wizard’s pet,” he said. “Nobody much believed him, although I will say he was good at setting fires when the weather got too chilly to move about.”

“It could have been Flarman,” said Douglas, yawning. “He never mentioned having a Salamander as a pet. But then, there’s a lot about Flarman I haven’t found out yet.”

“I don’t recall the name,” said the Salamander. “If you want to sleep, be my guest. I hope you don’t mind if I enjoy your dying embers for a while yet?”

“Not at all! Glad you enjoy them,” said the Journeyman, rolling into his blanket for the air was cold and damp. “Remember to speak to the Swallows in the morning, please.”

“I’ll do just that!” promised the Salamander. Douglas fell at once into a deep sleep, wearied by the hard work of fighting the swift river’s currents.

The waterfall’s roar proved a lullaby for them both, and as the sun didn’t reach into the canyon depths until late morning, they both slept quite late.

Opening his eyes, Douglas found himself being regarded solemnly by four pairs of wide blue eyes.

They were set under fair brows and fluffy, tumbled, yellow hair about regular, oval faces atop small, graceful bodies, like those of deeply tanned young children.

Water Sprites, Douglas decided. They were slight, slim, completely naked, and had tiny gossamer wings between their shoulder blades.

“Oh, Wizard!” one of them called softly. “Have we awakened you?”

“Yes, but it’s time I was up and about,” Douglas replied. “Hello! I’m Douglas Brightglade.”

“So the Swallows told us that the Salamander told them,” said the speaker, smiling shyly. “We’ve heard of Wizards from Mother, and the telling was good. We seldom talk to Men, but Mother said we should help Wizards if we can.”

“That’s most kind of her and of you. I know you Undines are among the shyest of Sprites. I appreciate your coming to visit us.”

“Undines? I thought they only lived in Sea waves,” said Marbleheart, awake by then.

“Our distant cousins the Sea Undines, you mean? Yes, they live in ocean waves. We, however, prefer to live near waterfalls, the higher the better.”

“The wider the better!” said the second Undine.

“The louder the better!” added a third. He was slightly more boyishly bold than the others. “My name is Niagara. This is my sister Victoria, and that is Rainbow. My eldest sister, who bespoke you first, is Angel.”

“Pleased to meet you all,” said Douglas, nodding politely. “May I present my friend, Marbleheart the Sea Otter? Join us at breakfast.”

“We’ve broken our fast on sunlit spray and rainbow mists,” said the Undine named Angel, blushing prettily. “It’s all we require. But you must go ahead and eat as we talk,” she added, seating herself on a clean, flat stone near Douglas’s knee. The tallest of the four, she was no more than ten inches from toe to upswept topknot.

The others came and sat, but not too close to the fire, which Douglas had stoked up to warm water for his morning tea.

“Sally Ann told the Swallows of us, I gather,” said Marbleheart, warming to these delicate creatures who lived by the waterfall. He appreciated the environment they chose, being a water creature himself.

“Yes. And the birds stopped by to speak to us. We understand you wish to pass above the falls with your vessel,” said Angel. “And we think we know a way ... if you’re able to perform one bit of magic beforehand.”

“Tell me about it,” urged Douglas. He poured tea into tiny acorn-cap cups that he had picked up on the edge of the Forest of Remembrance. The Sprites were delighted with the bracing brew.

“Sir Wizard, our most favorite sport is riding over the falls from above and diving into the pool below,” began Angel.

“I can see that would be fun, yes,” said Douglas, although he had doubts about it secretly. Marbleheart, however, nodded with enthusiasm. It sounded to him like a great lark, as long as there were no hidden rocks below.

“You may wonder, then, how we return to the top to do it all over again, dozens of times each day?” asked Niagara, interrupting his older sister.

“Clamber up the cliffs, like Salamanders?” guessed Marble-heart.

“Fly?” asked Douglas. “I notice you have wings.”

“No, no, sir! Our wings are just for show, unfortunately,” said the boy Sprite.

“We’ve found a much better and quicker way. One less exposed to the drying wind and hot sun.” Angel explained patiently, giving Niagara a big-sister sort of smile to show she didn’t mind the interruption. “We slip through the fall itself. Behind the water curtain is a cave, and from that a natural stair takes us up to the top!”

“Simple and elegant!” cried Douglas. “Many falls have such caverns behind them. I learned that from an Apprentice Aquamancer I know.”

“But what of the magic required?” the Otter asked.

“Our stair is very narrow. A mere crack. At your size, you couldn’t possibly squeeze through. If you could make yourselves much smaller, more like us, you’d fit. Mother says Wizards can do such wonderful things, easily.”

“I see!” nodded Douglas. “I can manage a reducing spell, when it comes to that. I wonder, however, if it’s worth carrying the boat with us? What is the river like above these falls?”

“Oh, we’ve been there often!” put in Rainbow, eagerly. “For miles the river runs between sheer walls. It’s swift and shallow but there are no reefs nor rocks in its bed. It might be a very hard row, but in time you’ll reach a place where the river curves away to the north. A long, very deep lake begins there. On the north shore of the lake is a town called Pfantas.”

Little Victoria added, “Beyond the lake the stream narrows and becomes a series of cataracts climbing halfway up between Blueye and Rumbler Mountain.”

“Blueye? That’s a mountain?” asked Marbleheart.

“Yes, sir! She has a perfectly round, blue lake in a crater in her peak. The Swallows, who told us about her, call her ‘Blueye’ because that’s what it looks like, I guess,” Niagara explained.

“I see. Well, Pfantas is our immediate destination. Your cave under the falls may be the solution to our problem. I’ll shrink the gondola and carry it along, too. Will you guide us, Undines?”

“Of course!” cried all four at once. “Willingly!”

Although Douglas had long used enlarging spells to provide blankets and tents from handkerchiefs when traveling, this would be the first time he had used one in reverse, and on living creatures.

For practice, first, he reduced the twenty-foot gondola to a mere six inches. The spell worked on the boat without a hitch. Douglas carefully wrapped it in his spare handkerchief and slipped the miniaturized gondola into his left sleeve.

He then took a deep breath and wove the enchantment again, for himself and his companion. It was quickly done, for the spelling was quite simple, designed by Flarman Flowerstalk for everyday use. Douglas—and the Otter—breathed sighs of relief. Douglas was now as small as Angel, although somewhat bulkier, and Marbleheart, even smaller, in a proper proportion.

Douglas shed his clothes, packed them away in his knapsack and joined the water babies and the Otter, who were already joyfully spluttering and splashing in the swirling pool.

Getting to the base of the falls was just a matter of allowing the circular current to carry them around to the far side of the basin. Near the base of the fall, the Undines led their new friends carefully up through a tremendous boil of mist. An up-angled ledge was just wide enough to tread, if they were careful.

Here at the very edge of the curtain, the falling water was only as thick as a windowpane. Ducking through proved easy for them all, even the slightly built Rainbow.

They scrambled over spray-slippery rocks beyond, deafened by the thunder of the falling water. Buffeting winds filled the cavity carved from the solid rock by ages of water splashing back from the impact zone.

In green dimness they clambered up a series of narrow stone ledges. Beyond the ledges, they reached the relatively dry and smoothly polished floor of a high, shallow cave. At the back a wide crack slanted from the floor almost to the ceiling. Into this the Sprites led the travelers.

Wind blew down the crevice from above and soon dried Douglas enough to allow himself to redress, although the naked Undines were not as happy with the drying as he. Marbleheart galumped ahead, happy either wet or dry, up the steep, natural stair within the crack.

“Not far,” said Niagara, leading the way. “See? There’s light ahead.”

They emerged from the crevice some distance to one side of the stream, above where it leaped over the precipice.

The Journeyman quickly undid the shrinking spell and Marbleheart, accompanied by the Sprites, tumbled gleefully into the river again to investigate the riverbed. The young Wizard selected a quiet backwater further upstream to resize and launch the Summer Palace gondola.

“No problems,” reported Marbleheart, surfacing from his swim. “Current’s fast and very strong, but you drove the boat through much worse and dodged rocks, too, all day yesterday.”

“Then we’re ready to shove off,” agreed Douglas. “Would you Undines care to go along a ways for the ride?”

“We’d be delighted!” cried Victoria and Niagara, and their enthusiasm convinced their shy sisters to agree.

“No farther than the beginning of the lake, however,” warned Angel. “Morgen live in the lake. They’re much too rough and unfriendly.”

“Morgen? Oh, I remember—Merpeople.” Douglas recalled Bronze Owl’s long-ago lessons on all the kinds and sorts of Little People.

“I bet they can’t dive over crashing waterfalls like you do,” comforted Marbleheart, but Angel insisted on returning before the gondola entered Pfantas Lake.

“Learn something every day, almost every hour,” said Marbleheart, once they were aboard and under way. “I’ve known Morgen ever since I was a kit in the Briney. Mermaids were our baby-sitters and taught us to sing and swim and catch the finest anchovies. I never knew their race inhabited lakes.”

“Only very large and deep freshwater lakes. Hardly ever flowing rivers, though,” Douglas told him. “I was taught the Lake Mermen were once the same as Sea Mermen, but they had a falling out, ages ago, and a few left salt to live in fresh water. That probably explains why they’re not very friendly. They must still feel like exiles, driven from their homes to be surrounded entirely by unfamiliar dry land.”

“Oh, I can see that,” said Rainbow. “Some Falls Undines feel that way—sort of second-rated compared to our Sea-living cousins. Personally, I think we, with our exciting, loud-voiced waters and quiet, cool pools are much luckier.”

This started a lively discussion between the Undines and the Sea Otter, who argued the benefits of curling surf and storm surges. The voyage on the upper brook was otherwise uneventful—in fact, quite pleasant. The Undine youngsters chatted endlessly, swam happily with Marbleheart when they felt too dry, and twice begged Douglas to stop so they could scramble up and plunge headlong over tributary falls that plummeted a hundred feet from the rimrock into the river.