The City of Wizards Read online

  It stopped as suddenly as it started. His eyes calmed and the anger was replaced by a surprise. I examined him quickly. He wore a headband as white as his hair and a scarlet robe with golden hemming decorated by a gold chain with intricate filigree. His ceremonial staff was black and white, and as he held it up in the air, I noticed his palms and fingers were deformed.

  “We will meet in the Arena, boy,” he said as he mounted the biggest tephir I had ever seen.

  He left without haste, only total silence and chilling wind remained.

  Who was he?

  But that was a silly question.

  I knew the answer already...

  ♠

  The bad luck was not over yet.

  Not so far from Quasim's inn, on a busy street with shops and taverns, some women dressed in very short black and red skirts waved at me as if I was their friend. At he same moment, roof tiles above my head decided to leave their place.

  A female voice shouted: “Watch out, tiles are falling!” just in time for me and some other people to jump aside.

  That was close...

  I shook my head in disbelief. Living in the city was bringing new risks I hadn't been aware of before.

  I must be more careful...

  On impulse, I decided to take a detour on my way to Quasim's. I turned from the main street to a narrow lane and pretended to be heading westward, while the inn stood southward. I watched forward, backward, and all around me as I went.

  I got paranoid...

  Nobody was tracing me.

  But I didn't look down, and that was a mistake...

  I stumbled over a paving slab and felt a breeze in my hair. A tephir flew just inches over my head!

  If I hadn't fallen, I would've been hit by an animal as massive as a horse but much faster!

  I was lying motionless with my face on the pavement, while my thoughts were a complete mess.

  “Hey! Are you alright?”

  My tongue was not able to answer.

  A hand touched the back of my neck.

  “Get up!” Woman's voice ordered.

  I tried, but the world was spinning around like a kid's carousel. I fell again, this time on my back.

  Her gentle fingers ran through my hair and touched my face.

  “So he hit you slightly, after all,” she observed. “I should have been quicker... You're bleeding, not much though. You were lucky. Can you get up?”

  “No. Everything... whirls... I feel nauseous...”

  “It's a concussion. You're going to be okay,” she pulled out a small bottle. “Drink it. It's an extract from sa’ne.”

  The potion was awfully bitter, but the world stopped dancing. Colors and contours were back as well as my sense of touch and sight. I felt cold and pain in the back of my head...

  “I'm better now. Thanks.”

  “So get up!”

  To my surprise, my legs managed that uneasy task on the second try...

  Though she remained hidden in the shadows, I realized she was close to my age. Her clothes were ordinary with a simple flower pattern, narrow at the waist with short sleeves, but her hair was extraordinary, a dark flood running down her shoulders in the night breeze.

  “Who are you?”

  “Someone who struggles to keep you alive all day...”

  “Why are you so harsh?”

  “You deserve it!”

  At that moment I knew whose hand had saved me on the Arena's stairs, and whose voice warned me about falling tiles.

  “You saved me twice... ”

  “No, three times,” she bit her lower lip uneasily, regretting what she had just said.

  “Three times?”

  She didn't respond.

  “Why are you helping me?”

  “I owe it to you.”

  “But you don't even know me!”

  “That doesn't matter.”

  “I don't understand.”

  “As long as you are alive, we have some hope.”

  “I don't understand anything! Who is ‘we’? Who wants me to die? And why?”

  She kept silent.

  “Why do you care?! I'm nobody!” I realized I was shouting at her.

  She glanced around.

  “You are certainly not nobody!” She opposed quietly. Her tone changed. There was some warmth in it.

  “Look...” she stepped forward but stopped suddenly staring at my apparel. I had changed my clothes half an hour ago.

  “Are you completely mad!?” She pointed her finger at my chest and knees. “Take them off! Now!”

  I swallowed. My fingers ran through the drawstring. I took off my shirt but hesitated when it came to the trousers.

  She nodded, so I took them off as well.

  Now I was just in pants. I trembled with cold.

  “That's good,” she stopped me quietly. Her anger was gone. She murmured something like “Maybe some other time,” but I was not sure.

  “Put on your old clothes,” she added hurriedly.

  “What's wrong with the new ones?”

  “The colors.”

  “What?”

  “Colors of your clothes are...”

  “Forbidden?”

  “No. They are ... easy to identify. They attract undesirable attention.”

  “Why?”

  “You are Mister ‘Why’, today, aren't you?”

  “I just want an explanation!”

  “OK… Once there was a man who was an enemy of the present Warlock and the present Council, and his favorite colors were just like yours. That's all.”

  “I see. I'm just a peasant boy, though.”

  “No, you are not...”

  Warmth again.

  “Where are you staying?”

  “At Quasim's inn.”

  She nodded. “I know where that is. Does anybody else know?”

  “I don't think so.”

  “Fine. They tried and they failed, and that gives us some time before they come up with another plan. I will send a watchdog to Quasim's, just to be sure, anyway. His name is Yorrel, in case you need help.”

  They?

  “It shouldn't have happened this way,” she said sadly and turned to leave.

  “Hey! Don't go!”

  I studied her eyes, chin, and restless hair, the way she moved her hands... I touched her palms with my fingertips. Her fingers wrapped around mine.

  And seconds later she was gone...

  CHAPTER 2

  Day two

  My sleep was merciful and spared me of any nightmares. I woke up at the first crowing, with my mind overflowed with questions.

  Were yesterday's incidents really accidents?

  If someone is plotting against me, who is it? And for reason is he pursuing me?

  A slim figure in a flower dress replaced my worries. I could feel her tender fingers in my hair again…

  Who was she? Will I see her again?

  Of course I didn't tell Lokmi a word of what happened yesterday. He's got his own worries. I left our room, leaving my brother snoring loudly.

  At the bar I spotted a new wizard with grey sleeves who had to be Yorrel, my new watchdog. He was drinking warm blackberry beer with disinterest, but I was certain he had spotted me too. The room was almost empty except for three stable boys playing cards in the corner. I sat at an empty table next to the bar. Quasim cooked delicious eggs with fried bacon and onion and served it with a tasty gingerbread, but I had only a few bites to eat. Before I left the inn, a messenger boy appeared with a bundle. There were clothes inside, certainly expensive, in innocent shades of grey.

  I knew immediately where they had come from. My heart leapt.

  She hasn't forgotten me...

  It was weird. I wasn't used to getting presents and certainly not from girls...

  I put the clothes on and to my surprise they fit me well.

  I won't complain...

  ♠

  I crossed the doorsill under the pale sky with tattered pink clouds in the east.
The city was awakened already.

  A smell of freshly baked breads, cakes and biscuits emanated from the streets as girls and boys in white shirts and hats distributed it in wooden baskets. I waved my way among baker's apprentices and carriages with fruits and vegetables heading for their markets, slightly surprised of this morning rush.

  A queue near Purple Square caught my attention. I came closer to see a line of humans fading in a distance. The people were poor, dirty and apparently tired. I heard muffled crying here and there...

  How long have they been standing here? Hours or days? How long they had to travel to get there?

  “What are they waiting for?” I asked a small girl with a hat too wide, so she had to hold it with her left hand.

  “It's a queue to the Wailing Stone, sir,” she replied with a high-pitched voice.

  “Ehm... The wailing stone, you say...” I repeated confusedly.

  “Yeah,” the young lady nodded. “It's a large stone where everybody begs for something. My mum says when someone begs pleadingly, the stone fulfills his wish. She says she had a wish a long time ago, and the stone fulfilled it. Do you have a wish, sir?”

  I gave a long look at queue's end. “Perhaps...” I murmured.

  ♠

  Let's investigate those beings on tephirs now...

  I observed their behavior since I left Purple Square. They wore their hair long under conical hats or headbands, and only some of them grew beards. Shiny clothes were preferred to plain, velvet to silk. They dressed them up with ornaments or small amulets. Wizards holding public office bore long ceremonial staffs expressing their status. Ka'tans carried black ones, Council guards grey, and Warlock's staff was white and black. They bought mainly wine, beer, and spirits, and products made of iron or copper. Rumors go that metal repels magic so it cannot be transformed by spells, and wizards cannot touch steel with their bare hands without getting burned.

  Except for trade, the worlds of wizards and humans remained oddly separated. I witnessed single event of both universes interacting when a hackney loaded with bags of flour broke the front wheel at Flower Square, and a wizard repaired it with some kind of a stick spell.

  In general, wizards seemed quiet and absorbed in their own thoughts as they majestically sailed the sky on their tephirs. I couldn't understand how they kept the balance while turning or accelerating with their silent servants.

  It is said that tephirs are the only creatures capable of flying beside birds, and this ability is due to their U-shaped spell-bone hidden under their crest. Flying without a tephir was considered impossible. They reminded me of huge turtle shells, but I couldn't see any head, eyes, or legs. Maybe they didn't have any.

  I knew the city offered much more than magic jousts. I turned twice to the right and entered the fascinating Clock Square with the largest sundials in the world. The clock occupied the whole square, and astonished folk walked among purple marks indicating exact time. Around the square miniatures of the sundials were sold and people were buying them for a reason unknown to me...

  Two hours to noon. It's plenty of time.

  I decided to visit another two famous places, Rainbow Gardens, where tulips of all conceivable colors were grown, and Es'chers' staircase, named after a wizard who invented an illusion of eternally ascending steps.

  ♠

  “Do you know why wizards wear long sleeves?” Lokmi asked when we took our place in the Arena. It was early afternoon, but the ring was crowded already.

  We sat in a different place dressed in different clothes. Lokmi bought new ones as well, so whoever was pursuing me, wouldn't find me as easily as yesterday. Moreover, I hoped I could find some clues here.

  “Nope,” I said.

  “Because spells are ignited by fingers and longer sleeves can hide them better.”

  “Interesting,” I murmured.

  Lokmi is wrong. The Warlock has no fingers, only stubs...

  “Just watch the wizard in the red coat.”

  The wizard in the red crossed his fingers in a way impossible for a human and his rival on the left began to smolder before he was rendered down. The Red and the White started to circle each other.

  Flash! Boooom!

  Thunder hit my ears, and the red wizard vanished in a haze. Skw'r looked around, saw no trace of the red, and spat in front of the white. The audience applauded, and the next trio lined up in the corners.

  “It's boring.”

  Lokmi stopped clapping.

  “That was an amazing spell, you ungrateful lout!”

  In the highest stands six ka'tans were watching the combat. None of them seemed interested in my trifle.

  “I don't care.”

  “Will you grow up already, Syrdan?! How can we be of the same blood?”

  I promised my mother we wouldn't fight, so I kept silent. Lokmi doesn't know we are not of the same blood, indeed. My mother told me the secret on the morning we left the farm.

  She said they had adopted me when Lokmi was too small to remember. I flew in on a tephir, now in Lokmi's possession, a poor boy in a thin blanket with a fever and no belongings except for a piece of paper with a name written on it. It's all weird because tephirs don't fly with humans.

  I think the story is right, though. I remember my earliest dreams. Dreams where I fly at night, wind bites me in the eyes, and a strange voice talks to me... Furthermore, my mother explained that she allowed me to leave only because a fire angel convinced her to do so, and I shouldn't be afraid of the eyes of Mag’reb, whatever that meant.

  ♠

  When the day in the Arena ended, the place got crowded as usual, and I was carried away from Lokmi. There was a buzz of tephirs right above my head. Wizards were lucky. The air was immune to traffic jams...

  Some woman screamed, I turned, stumbled, and fell into something soft.

  A familiar voice giggled. “Well, I never thought men would throw themselves into my arms like this…”

  “You...” I sighed.

  She disengaged, smiling. “I'm sorry.” Her cyan dress was simple, but fetching, without sleeves and low-cut, exposing her shoulders and a necklace around her neck.

  And slightly more than that…

  “No need to be,” I said with a tremulous voice.

  “I'm sorry about yesterday...” She grew solemn for a moment. “We didn't have the best day, did we?”

  “I did. I met you.”

  She smiled and touched my chest with her palms. “You are wearing the clothes I sent you. Do you like it?”

  I grinned. “Yeah, I do! Thanks. And this is for you...”

  I gave her a tiny lily I had picked up at Flower Square earlier that day.

  She went blushing. “Thank you.”

  “The clothes! How did you know...?”

  A slim forefinger touched my lips.

  Her wide brown eyes studied my face while her long wavy hair played in the wind. Small freckles covered her skin from a cute snub nose to her chin and snow-white teeth. She had a red birthmark near her right ear. She brushed a strand of hair back behind her ear.

  “So you're a fan of magic truels, right?” she whispered. “You like to watch all the tricks and spells, dramatic effects, wizards falling down to the dust...”

  “No. I would prefer to watch you...”

  She winked, amused. “Only men are allowed to fight.”

  I tried to catch her palm, but she gently pulled my hand away.

  “I'm here because of my brother,” I explained quickly. “He wants to participate in the tournament. But I've lost him a while ago when we left the Arena.”

  She frowned. “Your brother?”

  “Step-brother,” I specified.

  “I see,” she replied. “I lost my mother during the tournament as well, eight years ago...”

  “Did you find her?”

  “No.”

  Her eyes turned aside. She squeezed my hand. Above the crowd, a wizard on an ashy tephir hovered with a long grey staff in his right hand.
r />   “We have to go...”

  “Why?”

  “Now!”

  She pulled me into a narrow lane and pointed to the wizard. “He is one of Martell's guards. We should clear out.”

  “Why? Wizards don't hurt people.”

  “You know nothing!”

  She took my hands and stepped closer so that her robe brushed against mine. “Nothing is as it seems. Take off that naive blindfold from your eyes. I must go now.”

  “Wait! When will we meet again?”

  “Tomorrow at sunset under Swallow Bridge,” she said and vanished in the night.

  “What's your name?” I asked the emptiness.

  And from the dark a whisper came back.

  Elisssaaaaaa...

  ♠

  To my relief, Lokmi was quietly snoring in the bed with his big nose buried under the pillow, when I returned to Quasim's. I lay down on my pallet and relived the day's events. I longed for her touches, smile, eyes...

  Finally, I fell asleep with a feeling that I had missed something important.

  What had she meant by a blindfold?

  CHAPTER 3

  Day three

  I woke up much later than I had the previous morning.

  Lokmi was sitting on his pallet preoccupied with practicing witchcraft. With the most captivating spell he sent a whooping cough back to himself, and I had to slap his back so he didn't choke.

  I think I hurt him a little, so we don't speak to each other once again.

  Today's plans included sightseeing in the city and later a rendezvous with Elisa. Surely, the King's spire and the other monuments were even more impressive from a closer look, but my thoughts revolved around her soft hands and wide brown eyes…

  At the feet of the King's spire and the Gathering's tower the river of Averot'h meandered like a serpent. I walked up the pathway along the river surrounded by apple and chestnut trees, until I stopped by a bay with reeds and ducks for a while. The sun was glittering on the water, reeds swayed peacefully in the breeze. I passed a running man with his dog as I crossed an ancient bridge to the oldest part of the city, a labyrinth of red brick houses tight against one-another. Gloomy underpasses and a number of bridges crossed turquoise waters crowded with boats.