Son of a Dark Wizard (8 page)

Sorren snapped the book shut and tossed it
across the table. “There’s only one way to find out if it’s
true.”

Sage dropped his head to the table like an
upset child.

“He won’t listen to anyone,” Kovola said.

“An
eleven year old
killed the most
powerful Wizard King in the
world
,” Sage said, “and you
think it might be chance?”

“I have a long distance to fly tonight,”
Sorren said, turning back toward the door.

“Wait,” Sage said. “Let me come with
you.”

“What?” Kovola said. “Why?”

“I’d like to make
some
measurements
before the last of the Candlewood family dies.”

“Come, then,” Sorren said, walking toward the
door. “You can fly the airship.”

That night, Sorren, Kovola, and Sage flew the
small airship southward to the Thornblack Mountains. They were the
tallest mountains in Morrowgrand, and stood next to a long wide
valley called Thornwood Pass. The pass was a common route taken by
airships; the valley was little more than a vast expanse of
grasses, and the Thornblack Mountains shielded the valley from cold
ocean winds. It was the smoothest sailing one could find in the
kingdom.

Sailing was not so smooth beside the lofty
mountain peaks, which almost pierced the clouds. The winds were
wild and wicked up here, and the eastern ocean’s cold breath rushed
through the control room’s broken window. But Sorren wanted the
ship floating far above the pass so that they’d have the best
vantage point from which to search the distant landscapes for his
father’s royal airship. From such a grand height, the kingdom
seemed to stretch on for miles and miles, glowing in the pale blue
moonlight. Patches of distant farmland looked like strange quilt
work, entire forests looked like stubble, and the stone buildings
of distant villages looked like the toys of a child.

There they waited, gazing through the
windows, scanning the skies below for any sign of Vonlock’s royal
airship.

Vonlock’s airship would be over ten times the
length of the cargo airship, and over five times the height. It
would be painted a rich shade of blue, the color of the Nyrish
moon, and its thick trails of steam would be visible from great
distances. It had been built to look imposing, to cast long shadows
and remind the kingdom who was king. Sorren imagined the Chosen One
walking its wide halls and sleeping in its majestic bedrooms. He
imagined the the boy going through his father’s things, going
through his own things. Sorren didn’t want any of it back. It was
all a memorial to another life now.

Neither Sorren nor Sage nor Kovola spotted
anything that night. They used the mirror to retire to the caverns,
and the next night they returned to the airship to continue the
search. Still nothing.

On the third night, the winds were much
calmer, and Sorren was tired of searching.

I need Thale
, he thought, staring
through the front windows of the navigation room, standing behind
Sage who sat at the ship’s control panel.

Kovola was gazing through the side windows.
Sorren could hardly tell if he was still searching the skies, or if
his mind had drifted into a daydream. The old man would not want
Sorren bringing Thale here. Sorren didn’t feel like arguing with
him.

He shook his mechanical arm. “Bah,” he said,
pretending to have trouble wriggling his fingers. “Hand’s getting
stiff.”

“I told you,” Sage said, “your work is
sloppy. You’ll have to rebuild that whole thing from scratch.”

“Just needs oil,” Sorren said, turning to
leave the room. “Kovola, I’m going to borrow your ventor’s oil.” It
was oil Kovola used for tove-making. Sorren knew it was one of the
supplies he had managed to escape the castle with.

“Wait,” Kovola said, following Sorren out of
the navigation room.

Sorren ignored him, walking to the storage
room near the back of the airship. He tapped the tip of his staff
against the small mirror on the table. His reflection faded away,
revealing an empty cavern room, torches lighting its cool damp
walls.

“I’ll get it,” Kovola said, putting a hand on
Sorren’s shoulder. “I don’t want you using the rest of it. I don’t
have much left.”

“We can get more,” Sorren said, leaning over
the portal, preparing to slide through.

Kovola clutched Sorren’s coat and pulled him
back. “Sorren, I said
I
would get it.”

Sorren stood back and sighed, brushing a hand
through his hair.

Kovola climbed on the table and carefully
slid his legs through the mirror. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

Sorren watched as Kovola climbed through the
portal and disappeared into the shadows of the caverns beyond.

Good. His plan had worked perfectly. Kovola
was out of the way.

Sorren put a finger to his throat and thought
a small enchantment, a spell that would carry his whisper to its
one intended listener. “Thale.” The whisper echoed through the
cavern halls like a chorus of ghosts.

Moments later, Thale crept into the cavern
room, peering around.

Sorren, looking down through the portal,
beckoned the boy forward. “Thale. I need your help.”

Thale approached the mirror. “My help?”

“I still can’t find my father’s airship.”

Thale took a step back and bit his lip.
“Kovola’s making me read more books.”

“This won’t take long.”

“Is Kovola there?”

“He’s back in the caverns somewhere,” Sorren
said. “He’s getting something for me.”

Thale looked back into the shadows behind
him, as though unsure about something. Then he turned back to
Sorren and extended a hand. “Help me up.”

Sorren held out his silver-copper hand and
pulled Thale up through the mirror. As Thale made his way out of
the storage room, Sorren pointed his staff at the mirror and
whispered an enchantment to close the portal. The caverns slowly
vanished, and Sorren’s reflection appeared. That would keep Kovola
out of the way for a bit.

Sorren followed Thale into the navigation
room.

“My father’s airship,” Sorren said, nodding
toward the front windows. “Can you see it?”

“Hmmm.” Thale closed his human eye and leaned
forward, the lens of his tovocular eye protruding from his socket
like an extending spyglass, faintly buzzing.

Sage looked up over his shoulder. He didn’t
say anything, but he was obviously fascinated by Thale’s eye,
staring at it as if it were some fascinating treasure. Sorren
almost expected him to reach out and grab it as he’d done with his
own mechanical arm.

Thale’s head slowly turned. “There’s a lot of
kingdom out there. Is your father’s airship flying?”

“How well can you see the moons?” Sage
asked.

“Don’t worry about the moons right now,”
Sorren said. “The airship may be airborne, or on the ground near a
village. Atlorus is touring the kingdom. That’s all I know.”

Thale’s eye whirred, twisting in and out of
his socket. Sorren knew the boy’s eye could see farther than even a
sea captain’s longest spyglass, and the darkness would be no
obstacle for it.

After a few minutes, Thale sighed. “This’ll
take time.” He pulled his tovocular eye out, scratched the inner
rim of his now empty eye socket, and rubbed the lens of his eye on
his sleeve.

Sage stood up and squirmed between Sorren and
Thale to the back of the room. “Sit down then,” he said. “I’ve been
sitting all night.”

Thale took the empty seat and rested his chin
on his knuckles, putting a hand over his human eye.

Hours went by. Sorren and Sage eventually
retreated to the navigation room floor, sitting with their backs
against the wall. Sage was busy sketching something in his small
journal, while Sorren polished his silver-copper hand with a small
cloth.

Kovola must be furious
, Sorren
thought. By now he must have discovered that Thale wasn’t in the
caverns and that the portal had been closed. Sorren wondered what
the old man would do. Kovola was not the sort of person who shouted
or threw tantrums when he was angry. But then, Sorren had never
tricked him like this before.

“I’ve got it,” Thale said, his eye whirring
about.

Sorren and Sage stood up.

“Where?” Sorren asked, leaning forward.

Thale pointed two fingers slightly leftward.
“The ship’s flying low, over those forests.”

“Owl’s Fortress?” Sage said, squinting.

Owl’s Fortress was a long stretch of forested
hills near Morrowgrand’s eastern coasts, named for the great
variety of owls they gave home to. From the cargo ship’s grand
height, they were just a stretch of bumpy landscape to the naked
eye.

“There are no towns or villages near Owl’s
Fortress,” Sage said. “Why would they be flying around there?”

“Are you sure it’s my father’s airship?”
Sorren asked.

“I’m certain,” Thale said. “Just a black dot
with my real eye, but I can see it perfectly with my other.”

“Owl’s Fortress then,” Sorren said. He tapped
Thale on the shoulder. “Let Sage fly.”

Thale left the seat and Sage took it, putting
his hands on the helm. “You want to fly there now?”

“The Chosen One is on that ship,” Sorren
said.

“It’ll take hours from where we are,” Sage
said.

Sorren glanced out the broken window on the
side and looked up at the Nyrish moon, floating brightly in the
western skies. It was almost a half moon tonight. The more full it
was, the more Nyrish power a Nyrish wizard could collect from it. A
half moon would be enough.

“It won’t take hours,” Sorren said. “It’ll
take minutes.”

“Owl’s Fortress is way over there,” Sage
said, pointing ahead. “We can barely even see it from here. That’s
a long distance.”

“Yes, it is,” Sorren said.

Sage sat in silence for a moment. “Ah,” he
said. “You installed something on the engine?
You’re
powering the ship?”

“I am.”

Sage shook his head. “It’s still too far.
It’ll take us at least half an hour.”

“Just fly,” Sorren said. “I’ll worry about
giving the ship the power it needs.”

Sage grimaced.

“Give me a moment,” Sorren said. He left and
returned with the mirror from the storage room.

“Why do you need that?” Thale asked.

“Don’t want it to break,” Sorren said,
holding the mirror out to Thale. “Do you want to go back?”

“Go back?”

“To the caverns.”

Thale took the mirror and glanced at his
reflection. “You closed the portal?”

“Yes,” Sorren said.

“Why?”

Sorren didn’t answer the question. “I can
open it again. Do you want to go back?”

Thale only stared at the mirror, as if
waiting for his reflection to answer for him.

Sorren turned to the broken window and
whistled. “This airship is about to fly faster than the wind,” he
said. Quove flew through the broken window and landed on his
shoulder. “And it will fly straight toward the Chosen One. This’ll
be dangerous.”

Thale kept his eyes on his reflection. “Then
why are you doing it?” he asked.

Sage glanced over his shoulder. “Atlorus took
everything from him. His father. His kingdom. His castle.”

Sorren shook his head and clenched his
scepter in his flesh and blood hand, letting its grooves of cold
iron press into his skin. He gazed out the front window and tried
to imagine his father’s airship somewhere down there, across the
vast kingdom, being flown by the boy who killed his father.
“Everyone is piling their hopes on a boy they barely know,” Sorren
said. “They think creating a new world is like lighting a candle. A
burst of flame and it’s done. But it’s not. I’m changing
everything.”

Thale and Sage were silent.

After a few moments, Thale held the mirror
tightly to his chest. “I won’t let this break.”

Sorren nodded. “Sit down, back and head
against the wall.” Thale obeyed, and Sorren turned to Sage,
gripping the back of his chair. “Out of fixed-float. First gear.
Fly.”

Sage shivered and strapped himself to his
seat. “Don’t get too excited,” he said, pulling switches on the
control board. “It’s cold enough in these mountains.” He slowly
turned the helm to the left while pushing a small lever on the
control board, pointing the airship downward so that it was facing
Owl’s Fortress directly. Then he slowly pushed another lever, and
the airship began flying forward.

“Keep steady,” Sorren said, backing away from
the control board and leaning against the back wall. Again he
glanced out the broken window and up at the Nyrish moon, whispering
some of the most basic spells known to wizards of the Nyrish power.
Instantly, a warmth pervaded through him, through his blood, like a
river of warm water pouring through his heart and lungs. It was the
flow of the Nyrish power, always a peaceful and welcoming feeling,
like meeting an old friend by a fireside after a long journey.

Sorren carefully directed the power to the
part of his mind that held the airship and its engine. With that,
the airship quaked as if in a storm and accelerated forward. Sorren
let the force of the acceleration pull his arms to his side. The
world outside the window seemed to warp slightly, smearing at the
edges, and the mountains blurred past the windows. The wind became
the sound of a waterfall, roaring like some incredible beast.

Sage groaned, leaning forward and clutching
the helm as though his life depended on it. Thale had curled up
against the wall with his chin against his chest, his eye closed
tightly.

Sorren kept the airship tearing through the
sky, feeling for the limits of what the old ship could handle with
his mind. Too fast, and the ship might rip apart against the force
the wind. But Sorren was not concerned about that. He could handle
the flow of the Nyrish power. It was what waited for him above
Owl’s Fortress that concerned him.