Wizards Conclave

Chapter 25
Muddy Flagstones

The moons were all high in the night sky. Lunitari and Solinari, just past full, were approaching zenith, while Nuitari was beginning to set. Two cast their light on the world, and all lent their might to the practitioners of the three robes.

But would that might, the power of those three moons, be enough?

Dalamar pushed himself to his feet. He had been sitting with his back against the courtyard wall, studying his spell book and thinking about their formidable foe. Coryn had been sitting nearby, also reading, studying the incantations she had used in the battle with the golem. After a long time she had closed her eyes, and Dalamar noticed she had fallen asleep.

Other wizards were all around, and they, too, were resting, restoring their spells, meditating, or praying. He himself felt no need of rest. There would be time enough to gather their numbers, and that time would be very soon.

The dark elf shook his head to clear away his fatigue. He felt sluggish. He was surprised to see Jenna standing beside him-she had come up completely unnoticed.

"Do you think we should wait until tomorrow?" the red-robed woman asked. "The three of us haven't slept for two nights. And I'm certain those we summoned under the Eye have had no rest since then, either."

Dalamar pointed to the moons. "They are nearly full tonight. Tomorrow they will be fainter, our power weaker. I think we should attack as soon as possible."

"Yes, I agree," she said.

"And I," Coryn said. She had awoken and now climbed to her feet, her expression serious, glaring at the tower as if it were a personal enemy. With visible reluctance the white robe broke her stare to meet the eyes of Jenna and Dalamar, as the other wizards slowly gathered around them.

"Do you have any ideas as to what we should do?" asked the young woman.

"Yes," Dalamar replied. "I suggest we do something unexpected. We should use teleport spells to teleport ourselves into the Tower. Working in pairs or threes perhaps, we can spread out through the interior. When someone encounters Kalrakin we'll rush to that wizard's signal, and perhaps we can take the sorcerer by sheer numbers, if nothing else."

"Other spells are useless against him?" asked a young-looking woman in a black robe. She had large eyes and a very exotic, attractive appearance.

"Yes, Sirene," the dark elf replied. "At least, any spell he can absorb with the Irda Stone. But I don't see how he can counter our teleport spells."

"Here. These will help," Jenna said. She had drawn a small pouch from the depths of her red robe, and now poured the contents into her palm, revealing an array of small, sparkling gems. "Everyone take one of these," she said, handing them around. "If you spot Kalrakin, drop it to the ground. It will alert the rest of us, and we'll come as quickly as possible. Even if the one who drops the stone is killed before others arrive, you will have delivered a key warning-and your life will not have been lost in vain."

Dalamar took one of the stones as Jenna finished passing them out. "Are we all prepared? Let's team up, for safety. I will go to the Hall of Mages with Willim-if that's agreeable to my dwarven comrade?"

"Aye, elf. We go together," growled the eyeless dwarf. "Let's get on with it."

Swiftly the other mages paired up, Jenna joining her old teacher, Rasilyss-they would go to the aerie in the North Tower-while Coryn agreed to ally with old Galarant, the two of them teleporting to the anteroom in the foretower. As best as possible they divided up the inside of the Tower.

"All right," Jenna said. "Good luck-may the gods of magic smile upon us. And let's go."

Several dozen wizards simultaneously spoke the command word for the teleport spell. Magic sparkled and swirled around them. The spell flared and faded, leaving its familiar and slightly disorienting sensation.

After Dalamar cast his spell, he looked around, fully expecting to be standing in the Hall of Mages. He cursed when he saw he was still in the courtyard, with all his comrades. All of the wizards were muttering in dismay and looking around, showing surprise and outright disbelief.

"What is this?" demanded an elder Red Robe.

"Some sort of wild magic curse!" growled Willim the Black. "Bars us from the Tower-we can't even teleport through his damned walls!"

"Ignominy!" declared another mage. "All of the spells failed?"

"All save one," said Galarant. He had been standing beside Coryn; now he was conspicuously alone. "The lass, alone among us, seems to have managed to cast her spell properly and has made it into the Tower."

"That means she's in there alone with that monster," Jenna cried, turning to look at the lofty structure, strangling back her fearful gasp.

"And we're stuck out here," Dalamar said. He wondered how Coryn had succeeded and how much she could accomplish on her own.

He realized, with a frown, that if she prevailed, the future of the Conclave would be white.

Coryn's teleport spell indeed succeeded and brought her unerringly to her chosen destination: the hallway connecting the great anteroom to the nearby kitchen. Immediately she turned through a circle and was relieved to see no signs of activity. She was puzzled when she didn't see Galarant and wondered if he had misunderstood this destination for their spell.

Stones lay on the floor, rubble so thick that it was difficult to take a step without having to kick some rock or gravel out of the way. Gaping holes yawned in the walls. Everywhere the light was dim and murky.

At the other end of the hall, the kitchen seemed quiet and dark; Coryn quietly stepped that way and peered through the door. The place seemed empty, though everywhere there were wreckage and piles of broken dishes.

In her hand Coryn clutched a small gem-the talisman Jenna had given her. Carefully stepping around as much of the rubble as possible, Cory made her way back to the main hall. It was shadowy and still, except where garish beams of light glowed in their alcoves and spilled into the rest of the room.

Three steps into the room she felt her foot sink right through the floor, as if the solid-looking stones were in actuality soft mud. Quickly she tried to spin away, but her feet were suddenly mired. She felt cold, viscous material tug at her ankles and close around her calves, and she made a desperate lunge back toward the hallway. A gleeful voice cried out strange, vulgar words.

She was stuck fast. The gummy stuff hardened around her legs, pinioning her just below her knees; gradually, the material became solid stone. Coryn twisted and pulled, but neither foot could wiggle free. Instead, leaning awkwardly, she was trapped in the midst of her lunge. From behind her came Kalrakin's unmistakable rasp; he almost cackled with delight.

"Ah, my trap has caught a mouse… a most fetching little rodent, indeed!"

She turned her head toward the sound of the voice, but saw nothing-until, an instant later, the tall sorcerer materialized, looming over her, his beard practically quivering with self-satisfied delight.

"Invisibility. Such a splendid little spell-simple wild magic, I assure you! Much better than one of those tedious little spells you are forever squinting at? I was standing here all along, watching you tiptoe around."

Coryn felt sick to her stomach as she realized her utter vulnerability. She whirled in panic.

"Why are you doing this?" she cried, raising her voice in a demanding tone-not because she wanted or expected an answer, but to disguise the noise of the gemstone as she dropped it. "You don't belong here!"

In the next instant her bravado wavered as she watched Kalrakin raise his hands and drop them quickly back to his sides. A web of hazy smoke spun from the golden fingertips of his right hand then spread out overhead, before descending from the ceiling with thin strands of magic woven into a fine mesh. In two places that net glowed with an eerie light, and the bearded mage looked up at them with a smile of pride and cunning.

"Oh, is that supposed to be a little warning? Or-oh, of course! — this was a summons to your pathetic comrades, wasn't it? A call to all of those in red and white and black to race to your rescue. How imaginative!"

"You're mad," Coryn said coldly. Her mind was flailing wildly. Their careful plan was a shambles, and she had never been more helpless than she was now, with her feet imprisoned in the anchoring stone of the floor.

"I may be mad… or I may be a genius. Perhaps I will yet embody all the future of magic upon Krynn. Unfortunately for you, my girl, you will be long dead by the time we find that out."

Kalrakin was clearly enjoying himself, flipping the Irda Stone between his hands with practiced gestures. Abruptly he slipped it into a pocket and made a simple gesture, placing his hands together and then slowly spreading them apart. Coryn gasped in pain; she couldn't budge-she was anchored by a heavy weight-yet her legs began to slide apart, stretching her muscles until they hurt. The sorcerer continued to expound.

"This tower… you claim it as your own, the symbol of your gods. But you must understand, those gods are pathetic remnants of the past. This tower is now a bastion of wild magic, a monument to the glory of myself!"

Coryn saw one chance to free her encased feet. She glared at the wild mage while at the same time trying to send a message to the foundation rock.

Help me!

Just as Coryn was sure that she was going to be rent in two, the slowly moving stone ceased its grinding progress. Kalrakin frowned and gestured sharply with his hands, but still the rock refused to move any farther.

"What feeble sorcery do you thwart me with?" he demanded. He pointed a bony finger at her, and though he was half a dozen paces away she could feel the pressure of that digit, like a sharp spear point, pressed against her chest. "I could tear your heart out with a single twist of my hand!"

Instead the floor underneath him buckled sharply, sending him toppling backward against the wall. He cursed and flailed, falling down hard. The Master had heard her, was giving her such aid as he could!

Coryn murmured the same spell she had used against the golem. This time the magic flowed without resistance, into the solid stone encasing her feet. The cramps in her legs eased at once, and she pulled first one, then the other foot, free from what had become a sticky ooze. Collapsing to the side, she kicked, sending gobbets of the mud spattering into Kalrakin's face.

The sorcerer shrieked, an inarticulate cry, causing a huge piece of rock to break from the wall behind him and fly toward Coryn. She was already dodging, and the boulder merely slapped at her robe as it went flying past.

The young wizard cast a haste spell to keep out of the way, then sprang to her feet and dashed across the anteroom and into one of the parlors beyond. A stone, flying very slowly, lumbered through the air and struck the wall behind her.

In the momentary safety of the next room, she pressed her back to the wall and tried to think of another spell. Where were the others? For some reason, it appeared the wizards were not in the Tower. She needed to improvise.

She heard Kalrakin coming, kicking his way through the rubble and crying out in rage, and she cast another spell. When the wild-magic sorcerer raced through the door of the parlor, he was confronted by the sight of five Coryns, each running away in a different direction.

The tall mage had obviously cast some sort of haste spell upon himself, for he was moving equally fast as the White Robe. Now he spat furiously, directing a rain of stones against the quintet of images that were all scattering away from the wall. The mirror images of Coryn each darted toward a different exit, and though two of them puffed into nothingness when they were struck by Kalrakin's missiles, the wizard herself was able to escape into an adjacent chamber. Darting around a corner, Coryn found herself entering the kitchen by one of the rear doors.

And here she came face to face with Luthar.

The rotund magic user held a cleaver in one hand.

"Stop!" he cried. Coryn felt the wild magic pulse. A whisk of her hand before her face broke the force of the lesser sorcerer's spell. She charged forward as he stumbled back, raising the big butcher knife.

Coryn grabbed a large bowl on the counter and threw the heavy piece of crockery, striking Luthar in the head and knocking him backward. She raced past him and down the hallway, back into the main anteroom.

The muddy swath where she had cast her spell had already hardened, leaving the surface pitched and roiling-like a stormy sea with the waves frozen into place. Coryn started across carefully, watching her footing on the irregular slabs. Once past, she broke into a sprint, heading for the last place she had seen Kalrakin, hoping to come up on him from behind.

Beware.

She felt the warning from the Master, but she was moving too fast. Before she could change course, she slammed into an unseen barrier. The force of the impact knocked her backward and down. Stunned, gasping for breath on the rough floor, she looked up to see Kalrakin looming over her.

He waved the pearly stone toward her, and Coryn felt the wild magic surge around her. The floor moved, opening a wide gap that swelled wider and wider, threatening to swallow her whole.