The Last Enchanter Read online

  “Well?” said Marcus.

  Hyer straightened his scaly legs and raised himself to his full height, which was much taller than Marcus had thought. This brought Hyer out of the shadows so that Marcus could see him fully.

  “They want to eat you,” Hyer said, his voice laced with delight. “They will not long resist before they give in to their hunger.”

  Marcus realized then that Hyer might very well decide not to free him, vision or no vision. He was running out of time.

  Their groc guide, who still stood beside Marcus, leaned close so that his snout nearly touched Marcus’s ear. “Get in the boat,” he whispered.

  There was something about the voice Marcus recognized. The shape of the beast’s face, the look in his eyes seemed familiar. He looked at the groc more carefully.

  “Bryn?” whispered Marcus. “Is that you?”

  The guide suddenly stepped between Marcus and Hyer’s throne. “The stone does not lie!” the guide shouted to the crowd of anxious grocs. “The stone reveals this boy and his friends should go free.”

  “All of them free?” growled a groc who stood nearby. “Hyer says only the one in the stone goes. We can have the others!”

  An angry grumble rose from the crowd. Hyer raised his hands for silence. “You will have what I promise!”

  “I will take the boy back to the human world,” Bryn said. He bowed several times, each time taking a step backward, forcing Marcus, Clovis, and Lael closer toward the boat.

  When the boat was at their backs, Bryn hissed, “Get in the boat! Hurry!”

  The grocs roared in confusion.

  “What’s going on?” asked Lael.

  “You heard him!” said Marcus. “Get in the boat.”

  Clovis climbed in without hesitation. Then he offered his hand to Lael.

  “But why?” said Lael. “You don’t expect me to trust some overgrown lizard.”

  “Lael—”

  “How do we know it hasn’t planned its own personal feast?”

  “Lael!” said Marcus. “Get in the boat—now!”

  Lael glanced over Marcus’s shoulder at the grocs who were growing more and more restless. Then she climbed into the boat. Marcus and Bryn scrambled in after her.

  From his perch, Hyer shouted a command to stop the escaping prisoners, but the crowd of complaining grocs drowned out his voice. Bryn rowed the boat several yards out from shore. Hyer roared louder, “Follow them!”

  Several of the grocs jumped into the water and started swimming after them. Others disappeared into a nearby cave and then returned, dragging two more boats behind them. Soon these boats, filled with shouting grocs, were steadily gaining on them.

  “We need to go faster!” said Marcus.

  Lael stood up in the back of the boat. Loading her sling with some small rocks she’d snatched up on the shore, she swung the weapon over her head and let the stones fly. They hit several of the pursuing grocs, resulting in some painful yelps. One even lost his balance and fell into the water.

  Bryn rowed the boat into the darkness of the cavern. Soon it was so dark, they could not see each other let alone the boats chasing them, and Marcus wondered where they could possibly be headed. They continued on for several minutes, and then suddenly the bow of the boat rammed into something solid. The impact threw everyone forward and nearly out of the boat.

  “What happened?” asked Lael, rubbing her sore knee, which had smashed against the boat’s wooden bottom.

  “The cave’s outer wall,” answered Bryn.

  “Is this the way out?” said Clovis.

  “The only way out is the tunnel we brought you through before,” replied Bryn. “But I don’t think you want to go back there now.”

  “You mean it’s a dead end? We’re trapped?” Lael’s voice rose in a panic.

  “Marcus will save us,” said Bryn.

  “What?” asked Marcus, suddenly alert. “What can I do?”

  “You have magic.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “But I’ve seen it,” insisted Bryn. “You command fire and water and earth! You can get us out of here.”

  “No! I won’t do magic. I can’t!”

  “You must, Marcus, or we will all die.”

  Marcus heard the two groc boats cut through the water only yards behind them. He knew grocs had much keener eyesight than humans and suspected they could see him clearly. He did not want to use magic. He worried it would cause him pain, and he didn’t want to feel magic’s effects on him again. But at the moment, not using magic was even more frightening.

  Marcus leaned forward over the hull of the boat and pressed his palms against the cavern’s wall.

  The shouts of the grocs grew closer as Marcus tried to decide what to do. Suddenly, the boat jerked back. One of the grocs had grabbed it! Bryn swung his paddle through the air. The thump of it hitting something was followed by a splash.

  “Hurry!” shouted Bryn.

  Marcus didn’t wait a moment longer. He formed the word open in his mind.

  At first, nothing changed. Then the stone beneath his hands gave a little. Marcus clutched his fingers, grabbing handfuls of mud. The cave walls were absorbing water like a sponge.

  “Bryn? I think we should back up a little—”

  Before Marcus could say anything more, the entire cave wall crumbled outward. One moment there was blackness and a solid wall, the next there was brilliant daylight and open air. The gaping hole in the side of the canyon was at least twenty feet above the ground, and the sudden rush of water that cascaded out of it filled the canyon with a deafening roar. Marcus, Lael, Clovis, and Bryn had barely enough time to hunker down low in their boat before they slipped over the crest of the newly born waterfall.

  Twenty

  Marcus, Lael, and Clovis screamed until they thought their lungs would burst. Then, after a brief yet terrifying drop, the boat landed with a heavy thud on the churning water below, now rushing like a mighty river through the snaking canyon. As narrow as the canyon was, their boat struck its walls again and again so hard Marcus was sure it would be dashed to pieces. Miraculously the boat held together—for now.

  Marcus glanced up and saw blue sky ahead.

  “Hold on!” he shouted and then ducked his head as far down into the boat as he could. The boat shot out of the canyon like an arrow and arched through the sky, taking flight before landing once again in the now-slowing river below.

  Marcus cautiously peered over the boat’s edge as it traveled lazily through the town of Noam at the base of the Jeweled Mountains, past its gawking citizens, and down what once had been a road. Eventually the boat ran aground near some trees.

  They lay in the boat not speaking for a long time. Marcus’s chest burned, and he felt completely drained of energy. He kept his eyes closed and tried to focus on the rhythm of his own breathing. After several minutes, he heard the others stirring around him.

  Clovis was the first to sit up. He gripped the side of the boat and lifted his trembling body over it. Then he dropped onto the wet, muddy earth on the other side. He raised himself to his knees and finally, slowly, to his feet.

  Lael moaned. “Are we dead?” she asked, shading her eyes. Clovis reached down and took her hand, pulling her to a sitting position.

  “We’re not dead,” he said, “but I’m not so sure about him.”

  Lael shook Marcus by the shoulders. “Come on, Marcus,” she said, her voice breaking into laughter. “Believe it or not, we’re all in one piece.”

  Marcus rolled onto his side and used his hands to brace himself as he stood. He winced from the pain in his chest, which thankfully was beginning to fade.

  “Are you all right?” asked Clovis.

  “I’m a little weak.” In truth, Marcus hurt more than he cared to admit.

  “Here,” said Clovis, “lean on me.”

  Marcus draped an arm around Clovis’s shoulder and gingerly stepped out of the boat. He took a few shallow breaths, steadying himself, and then glan
ced around for Bryn. He found a boy with disheveled, black hair squatting in the field nearby, studying a butterfly perched on a mustard blossom. The boy stretched out a finger and managed to touch its delicate wings before it took flight.

  “Who’s that?” asked Lael.

  “That’s Bryn,” replied Marcus. He strolled over to the little boy and tousled his hair. “Thanks for getting us out of there.”

  The boy looked up with amber-colored eyes and grinned happily. “You got us out of there,” he said, picking the blossom and holding it beneath his nose. “I just got us there.”

  Lael gaped at them both. “You don’t mean he’s that . . . I mean, that little boy is that . . . that . . . thing?”

  “Groc,” said Clovis. “I told you, grocs are shape-shifters that take human form.”

  “Yes, but he’s a . . . a child!”

  Bryn stood up and walked over to where Lael straddled the boat with one foot out and one foot still in. She shrunk back as he approached. When Bryn held out his small, yellow flower to her, she cast uneasy glances toward Marcus and Clovis.

  “Go ahead,” said Marcus.

  Forcing a smile, she accepted the flower. “Thank you,” she said, “but—”

  “But?” asked Marcus.

  “His clothes,” she said, indicating the shabby trousers and tunic he wore.

  Bryn’s face lit up as he raised the pack he had been wearing earlier. “I carry everything I need in here,” he said proudly.

  “I think we’re near Lake Olsnar, about halfway to Dokur,” said Marcus, pointing in the direction of the trees. “There’s a road not far from here that leads through the forest to the lake. We can fill our water skins there and rest for the night.”

  The four of them soon found the road and spent a good part of the afternoon traveling north on it. The last time Marcus had traveled through these woods, he had been on his way home from Dokur after the battle with the Hestorians eight months earlier. But he had been on horseback, and the journey had taken far less time. Before that, he, Clovis, and Bryn had arrived at the lake and visited with a band of cyclopes. It was the cyclopes who fought against the Hestorians and finally tipped the scale in Dokur’s favor. There would be no cyclopes now, however. Winter was coming, and cyclopes were nomadic, traveling from one place to another as food and weather permitted. Last Marcus heard, they were spotted in the foothills near the hot springs of Amethyst Peak in the northeastern part of the island. They would not return to Lake Olsnar until spring.

  Marcus and the others reached the lake shortly before sundown. After filling their water skins, Marcus suggested they gather some tree branches and construct a shelter for the night.

  “Bryn, why don’t you handle the hunting? I’m sure we all could use a good meal.”

  Bryn dashed off happily into a dense patch of underbrush. Marcus knelt in the dirt and began clearing the area of rocks and leaves.

  “Clovis,” he said, “can you and Lael fetch that fallen branch over there? It’d be a perfect brace for the other branches.”

  But Clovis did not respond.

  “Clovis, did you hear me?” Marcus asked again.

  “There’s something over there,” Clovis whispered. Marcus followed his gaze to a grove of trees not far from where they stood. They waited. A few moments passed. Then they heard movement and a low grunting sound. The brush just beyond the nearest trees rustled.

  “Please don’t let it be a warboar,” said Clovis.

  “Maybe it’s a deer,” suggested Lael.

  Marcus crouched low and drew his knife. “Clovis,” he said, “I think you should get your bow ready.”

  Twenty-one

  Marcus inched forward with Lael close behind him, her sling raised. The brush rustled again, and there was more grunting, louder this time. Then suddenly—

  “By the gods!”

  Marcus looked back and met Lael’s astonished glance.

  “Drat these brambles!” said the voice.

  Clovis crept up to them. “A talking deer?” he asked.

  One final, violent shudder of the brush was followed by the sound of fabric tearing. A man emerged, examining the ragged hole at the hem of his robe. “Of all the trials the gods could send, they send me bushes with thorns! Can’t a man relieve himself without getting ensnared? How am I to mend this?”

  Marcus lowered his knife. “Grandfather?”

  Zyll glanced up and, at the sight of Marcus and his companions, immediately forgot about his robe. “Marcus, my boy!” he said, approaching with arms extended. Marcus ran to his grandfather and threw his arms around him. “Well, well,” said Zyll, peering at him over the rim of his spectacles. “Seems you’ve recovered nicely. But I must scold you for following me. I told you not to—”

  “You’re alive!” shouted Marcus. His eyes burned with tears. “You’re really alive!”

  “Well, yes. Last I checked. What is it, boy? Had you hoped I’d be otherwise?”

  “No, Grandfather, of course not. It’s just that—”

  “Out with it. You obviously expected to find me in some other condition than I am in at present.”

  Marcus wanted to tell his grandfather everything—about the vision in the water and his reasons for leaving Quendel—but Marcus was so happy to see Zyll, he didn’t want to spoil it. Obviously there had been some mistake. Marcus was no enchanter. He was just a boy apprentice. His vision had been wrong, and he was relieved to know it.

  “I’m just glad you’re safe,” said Marcus. “I was worried about you and didn’t want you to go on this journey alone.”

  “I’m not surprised you caught up to me, as old and as slow as I am. And I see you’ve brought company.”

  “You remember Clovis and Lael?”

  “Yes, Clovis the bow maker. And Lael, did you say? Lael, that troublesome girl from the village?”

  “I tried to make her go back, but she refused,” said Marcus. “I had no choice but to let her come along.”

  “I see,” said Zyll.

  Lael’s face went red, but Zyll’s smile set her at ease. “Such a pleasure to see you again, my dear.”

  Lael and Clovis excused themselves to finish gathering the necessary wood.

  “And Bryn is with us, too,” continued Marcus. “Oh, you’ve never met Bryn. He’s the groc I told you I met before.”

  “How did you run into him?”

  “It’s a long story, actually.”

  “And I’d love to hear it, but it appears as though you are setting up camp. May I be of assistance?”

  Another voice sounded from the thicket, accompanied by a frustrated squawk.

  “Leave me behind, will you?” cried Xerxes. “If I wasn’t made of wood I’d—”

  Zyll reached a hand into the thicket and pulled out Xerxes. “There now, old friend. I had no intention of leaving you behind again.”

  “Again?” asked Marcus.

  “Seems I was a little absentminded the first night in the forest,” replied Zyll, rolling his eyes.

  “A little absentminded?” said Xerxes, ruffling his feathers indignantly. “I laid there for an hour before you returned for me.”

  “I was bathing in the stream.”

  “And then there was last night in Noam.”

  “It was merely a joke, Xerxes.”

  “He threatened to use me in a game of stick ball!”

  “I should have endowed you with a sense of humor when I made you. Marcus, how did you endure so many days with him as a companion?”

  “It wasn’t easy,” replied Marcus, laughing.

  Xerxes clicked his beak angrily. “Well, now that I know my company isn’t wanted—”

  “Now Xerxes, really,” said Zyll, trying not to laugh. “You are far too sensitive. Come now, we are only having a bit of fun at your expense.”

  “At my expense is right. No, I shall endure no more of it. And don’t expect me to come hopping the next time you need a thorn plucked from your backside!”

  And with that
, Xerxes went still, returning to his inanimate form.

  “I think you hurt his feelings,” said Marcus.

  “It wouldn’t be the first time. Don’t worry, my boy. He may have an ill temper, but he’s the only true friend I’ve ever had. He’ll forgive me . . . eventually. In the meantime, we must get our rest. We still have a day’s more travel before we reach Dokur where your brother, Kelvin, awaits us.”

  Twenty-two

  The heat from the fire was more than the small flame could possibly produce on its own. Marcus suspected Zyll had cast a spell so that it could warm everyone present despite the chill in the air. In time Clovis, Lael, and even Bryn nodded off to sleep, huddled peacefully beneath their blankets. Marcus thought Zyll must have had something to do with that, as well. Soon only Zyll and Marcus were awake, watching each other over the flame.

  Looking at Zyll now, Marcus could still see the vision clearly in his mind. The sight of his grandfather lying in a pool of his own blood made his stomach churn.

  “You seem troubled,” said Zyll, stirring the embers at the edge of the fire with the point of his walking stick. “Are you going to tell me about it, or do I have to slip you a vial of noorweed serum to loosen your tongue?”

  Marcus smiled at Zyll’s good-humored threat. “It’s hard to explain,” he began. “When you left, I tried to use your divining bowl.”

  “And what happened?”

  “Nothing at first. But then later I saw . . .” Marcus stopped. He turned away from Zyll, ashamed to let him see the tears that formed now against his will. “I saw you.”

  He looked back at Zyll and saw in him the man who had raised him, loved him, taught him everything he knew. Zyll had been more than a grandfather to him. He had been his mentor and friend. He could not imagine his life without Zyll in it.

  Marcus stood up and took several steps away from the fire. He couldn’t sit still. “It was a mistake,” he said. “It had to be.”