familiar must be.
It must be like never being alone, he thought.
Dorian felt himself smiling. “Your familiar, sir,” he asked. “Will it always be that size or will it grow into a full-sized dragon?”
Lowadar arched an eyebrow toward his golden-hued familiar. “Bigby? He’ll grow,” the headmaster acknowledged. “Though by the time he really gains his size we’ll have parted ways. So it was with Old Whiskers, and so it will be with Bigby.”
Dorian watched the sleek dragon wyrmling stretch comfortably on its perch as it drew leathery lips back from sharp white teeth.
Lowadar drew out a clay pipe and packed the bowl.Smilingly slyly he lit the dark tobacco with the tip of his wand, and Dorian felt the urge to laugh even more.
“Dragons and wizards are inexorably bound, Dorian,” Lowadar said between draughts to fire the pipe. “As allies, as foes, as counsel, one to the other. There has, for example, always been a dragon at Aldwyns.”
“Since Des-whatever name,” Dorian answered, wanting to show that he’d been paying attention.
“Oh, even before that.” Lowadar pointed the stem of his pipe at the curious boy. “This plateau was the home of dragons before the first foundation stone of the academy was ever laid. In fact there are those who declare, and I myself am in no position to contradict them, that Aldwyns was built on the bones of dragons.”
“Like Bigby?” Dorian asked, amazed.
He tried to imagine the golden-hued familiar dying of old age and reduced to bones, and found he simply could not. It was like imagining an end to the universe—or feeling comfortable around eladrin like Maverick.
“Hmm?” Lowadar seemed surprised by the question. “Like Bigby? Oh no, my dear boy. I’m afraid the dread Insidian was nothing like our own Bigby—but that is a tale for another day.” He regarded Dorian. “I’m afraid Professor Fife was quite adamant about you getting started on your extra studies.”
Chapter 14
H elene kicked open her door and rushed into the room, throwing her cloak on her bed.
Her face was red, and despite the counterspells worked on her in the health room, she could still smell the lingering odor of those Stench Stones.
“That fool!” she snapped. “Do you know what that insufferable human did, Mordenkainen? He will rue the day he …” Her voice trailed off. “Mordenkainen?”
The window to her room lay in broken shards on her desk. A pile of snow had formed on the desk and the temperature in the room was bone numbingly cold.
She glanced around the room desperately.
She couldn’t see the falcon and, more importantly, she couldn’t feel him anywhere. Her face paled and she felt like she couldn’t breathe for a moment.
The bird often took to the sky when the weather allowed, but she could always feel the raw enjoyment of the falcon’s intense pleasure radiating through their bond.
Now all she felt was a cold, empty fear.
“Oh, Mordenkainen,” she whispered.
Her eyes darted frantically around her room and finally fell on a sheet of vellum tacked to her wall next to the broken window.
She reached out and her fingers trembled.
She realized what was holding the note in place and jerked her hand back in horror.
It was a blackened finger bone. She could feel the magic radiating off of it.
“Mordenkainen,” she whispered again.
She reached out with one hand and pulled the bone from out of the wood and pulled the vellum document down.
At the top of the paper there was an etching of a snake coiled with its tail in its mouth. She scanned the note, recognizing the writing instantly from the earlier note.
She shuddered, remembering the rotting hand as it slid back through her ring gate.
I HAVE YOUR FALCON, DEAR ONE
TELL A SOUL AND THE BIRD DIES
IF YOU WISH TO SEE HIM AGAIN
ENTER THE TUNNELS BEHIND
THE CAVERN OF THE QUIVERING MUSHROOMS
TONIGHT
.
COME ALONE
.
BREATHE ONE WORD
AND I BURN THE BIRD ALIVE
.
Helene crumpled the note, making an angry fist
It must be like never being alone, he thought.
Dorian felt himself smiling. “Your familiar, sir,” he asked. “Will it always be that size or will it grow into a full-sized dragon?”
Lowadar arched an eyebrow toward his golden-hued familiar. “Bigby? He’ll grow,” the headmaster acknowledged. “Though by the time he really gains his size we’ll have parted ways. So it was with Old Whiskers, and so it will be with Bigby.”
Dorian watched the sleek dragon wyrmling stretch comfortably on its perch as it drew leathery lips back from sharp white teeth.
Lowadar drew out a clay pipe and packed the bowl.Smilingly slyly he lit the dark tobacco with the tip of his wand, and Dorian felt the urge to laugh even more.
“Dragons and wizards are inexorably bound, Dorian,” Lowadar said between draughts to fire the pipe. “As allies, as foes, as counsel, one to the other. There has, for example, always been a dragon at Aldwyns.”
“Since Des-whatever name,” Dorian answered, wanting to show that he’d been paying attention.
“Oh, even before that.” Lowadar pointed the stem of his pipe at the curious boy. “This plateau was the home of dragons before the first foundation stone of the academy was ever laid. In fact there are those who declare, and I myself am in no position to contradict them, that Aldwyns was built on the bones of dragons.”
“Like Bigby?” Dorian asked, amazed.
He tried to imagine the golden-hued familiar dying of old age and reduced to bones, and found he simply could not. It was like imagining an end to the universe—or feeling comfortable around eladrin like Maverick.
“Hmm?” Lowadar seemed surprised by the question. “Like Bigby? Oh no, my dear boy. I’m afraid the dread Insidian was nothing like our own Bigby—but that is a tale for another day.” He regarded Dorian. “I’m afraid Professor Fife was quite adamant about you getting started on your extra studies.”
Chapter 14
H elene kicked open her door and rushed into the room, throwing her cloak on her bed.
Her face was red, and despite the counterspells worked on her in the health room, she could still smell the lingering odor of those Stench Stones.
“That fool!” she snapped. “Do you know what that insufferable human did, Mordenkainen? He will rue the day he …” Her voice trailed off. “Mordenkainen?”
The window to her room lay in broken shards on her desk. A pile of snow had formed on the desk and the temperature in the room was bone numbingly cold.
She glanced around the room desperately.
She couldn’t see the falcon and, more importantly, she couldn’t feel him anywhere. Her face paled and she felt like she couldn’t breathe for a moment.
The bird often took to the sky when the weather allowed, but she could always feel the raw enjoyment of the falcon’s intense pleasure radiating through their bond.
Now all she felt was a cold, empty fear.
“Oh, Mordenkainen,” she whispered.
Her eyes darted frantically around her room and finally fell on a sheet of vellum tacked to her wall next to the broken window.
She reached out and her fingers trembled.
She realized what was holding the note in place and jerked her hand back in horror.
It was a blackened finger bone. She could feel the magic radiating off of it.
“Mordenkainen,” she whispered again.
She reached out with one hand and pulled the bone from out of the wood and pulled the vellum document down.
At the top of the paper there was an etching of a snake coiled with its tail in its mouth. She scanned the note, recognizing the writing instantly from the earlier note.
She shuddered, remembering the rotting hand as it slid back through her ring gate.
I HAVE YOUR FALCON, DEAR ONE
TELL A SOUL AND THE BIRD DIES
IF YOU WISH TO SEE HIM AGAIN
ENTER THE TUNNELS BEHIND
THE CAVERN OF THE QUIVERING MUSHROOMS
TONIGHT
.
COME ALONE
.
BREATHE ONE WORD
AND I BURN THE BIRD ALIVE
.
Helene crumpled the note, making an angry fist
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