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# The Stone of Cuore

By

Stephen Carmer

Illustrated by

Gregory L. Otvos

Third Age of Timare the Series

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The Celtic Dragon

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Copyright 2010 by Stephen I. Carmer. All rights reserved.

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Smashwords Edition

Discover other titles by Stephen I. Carmer at Smashwords.com

No part of this publication may be reproduced in any way, stored in a retrieval system of any type, or transmitted by any means or media, electronic, or mechanical. Including, but not limited to, photocopy, recording, scanning, without prior permission in writing from the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this novel

are either fictitious or are used fictitiously.

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Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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Dedication

This series is dedicated to all who have helped me along the way, particularly a large number of phantoms who have been dedicated ghost writers.

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See the illustrations full-sized and colorized in the gallery at:

http://oldmagiclibrary.net

More adventures, colorized illustrations, and fun filled pages!

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Ancient Map of Timare

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The Land of Timare

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Visit http://oldmagiclibrary.net for colorized illustrations and more!

Fun facts, fabulous fiction, phenomenal phantoms!

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Read more about the Third Age of Timare

The series

Young Adult Action Fiction

The series begins in

Episode 1: _The Four Towers of Alacantar_

Follow the adventures of Deki and Hanta.

Swept away into a world neither could have ever imagined, the journey begins at sea.

Discover an old world of magic, wizards, and a wicked dragon seeking to devour the Prince!

Going to a new school is tough for anyone, but what if your school was taught by ghosts?

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Episode 2: _The Drums of Hadzi_

The adventures of Deki and Hanta continue

Just as the dragons are sweeping down as one Prince escapes Alacantar Castle! The other Prince has vanished! The perilous journey begins!

Not to mention, the Empresses --Tara and Astanshia are about to conquer the Dragon Empire, much to Toldare's chagrin.

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Episode 3: The Siege of the Raven Dragon,

The legendary Wolf King and the Raven Dragon are out for revenge!

The adventures continue with a startling new development.

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Available at Smashwords.com

And other eBook retailers.

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Visit <http://oldmagiclibrary.net>

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# Chapter 1: The Secrets

The Stone of Cuore

Adventure 1

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The story begins during the time of Prince Deki at the voraciously haunted Alacantar Castle. Ladius and Ravi, twin troublesome wizards of extraordinary abilities are the first to discover that secrets are hidden in an old painting. The twins first arrive at Alacantar Castle in Episode 3: The Siege of the Raven Dragon. The Stone of Cuore begins a few years later.

Ruberta's Book of Rules

"Stop this abomination!" Ruberta screeched. She was a tall imposing woman. On her long spindly nose, she balanced delicate spectacles with embedded diamonds. With a cranky pair of eyes she clenched her lips tautly whenever she was truly irritated. Ruberta was the curator for the ceaselessly troublesome Society for the Preservation of Art and Antiquities. In her hand she held a book filled with the Society's stringent rules. Angrily waving the book threateningly at the helpless workers, she demanded that they stop what they were doing.

A rather oversized painting with a heavy gilded frame had been removed from its hanging place of centuries. Hidden in a rarely visited chamber, the Keeper of Alacantar Castle had decided on refurbishing the old apartment. Painted on hand-hewn and smoothed panels fitted together meticulously rather than on thick canvas, the technique was in the style of the old masters. Harmless as it may have appeared to remove the eight hundred year old painting, the wrath of the Society for the preservation of Art and Antiquities had been incurred. The Keeper had only intended to move the painting to another unused chamber where it would presumably hang on the wall undisturbed for another eight hundred years. The workmen were just doing their job and cared little for the historic artwork they were carrying through the main foyer of the keep.

"Aye, Madam," Horace, the foreman of the work crew stepped forward while his workers trembled under the stern glare of Ruberta. "We have our orders to move this painting."

"You will do nothing of the sort!" Ruberta rudely interrupted Horace. "I demand to see the Keeper! The removal of historically significant artwork is strictly forbidden."

The assistant butler Gaylord, having heard the ruckus in the foyer, quickly arrived to investigate the matter. When he realized it was Ruberta again causing a disturbance, he quickly disappeared to find the Keeper. The workmen in the meantime set the rather large painting down on the floor to await further instructions. Ruberta with her nose turned upwards, her graying hair stuffed loosely under a colorfully flowering hat, resolutely remained within two steps of the painting. She clutched the book of rules tightly in her hand and glared conspicuously at the workers and Palace Guards.

Mister Persons, the perfectly punctual personal assistant to the Keeper, arrived to handle the situation. Well-mannered and versed in the appropriate manner in which to handle all important visitors, he recognized Ruberta immediately. She had a manner of always making herself a rather painful thorn in the personal assistant's side. With polished manners, Mister Persons smiled politely at her.

"The painting may not be removed!" Ruberta stated after making a long argument. She pointed out nearly every relevant fact and rule in her tidy ribbon tied book.

"I believe the painting is being taken to a more advantageous location where it may be viewed by the many visitors to the castle," Mister Persons tactfully replied, but he knew that the painting was destined for a distant chamber in the South Tower.

"The painting will not be moved another step!" Ruberta laid down the law and held her book of rules up as proof of her authority.

"The painting cannot stay here in the foyer," Mister Persons pointed out. "The workmen have other matters to accomplish."

"Then you will hang it on the wall right here," Ruberta demanded. She pointed to a small space between two paintings of rather foreboding and important wizard hanging in the most privileged position. The rather large painting held up by the workmen would fill the entirety of the wall and she knew the wizards would have to be moved. Looking a bit miffed, the eyes of the portraits turned and took notice.

"Until you have the express written authority from the Society for the Preservation of Art and Artifacts, the painting will remain here in the foyer!" Ruberta spoke forcefully and if there was any question of her authority in the matter, she pointed out a particular page in her book of rules for Mister Persons to personally examine.

Knowing that incurring the wrath of Ruberta would only bring a dozen more Socialites to the castle, Mister Persons was compliant. With a clap of his hands, he ordered the foyer gallery to be rearranged. The old painting of a noble looking wizard posing with two young students would be hung in the most prominent position. Ruberta remained firmly planted until the work was completed to her exact and imposing specifications.

"This work of art was painted by Alexander!" Ruberta screeched as she studied the faded signature near the bottom. "Imagine, just carting it off to be thrown away. This is a priceless masterpiece!"

"I am humbly apologetic for any misunderstandings that might have been incurred," Mister Persons replied with a courteous bow. "The painting was only being moved to a better location." He straightened his round top hat, and then his red bowtie before glaring over the workmen expectantly.

Truly this was an exceptional old masterpiece painted by a renowned artist of antiquity. Mister Persons had no real objection to exhibiting it prominently. His only regret was that Ruberta had appeared at the precise moment that the workmen were bringing the rather oversized painting through the foyer. Now that he thought about that, he decided that Ruberta had an uncanny ability to do just that sort of thing. Mister Persons reassured her that the proper procedures would be followed in the future while the workmen rearranged the gallery.

Dinner was expected to be served shortly. Ladius and Ravi, two troublesome teenage identical twins that lived in the South Wing came by. Stopping dead in their tracks examining the new painting, both stepped closer. A bit of a contest had developed among the students of the castle to take notice of any new paintings and be the first to announce that fact at any meal. To win they would need the name of the wizard depicted and be able to describe any details of significance. The secret to winning the contest was to keep everyone else from noticing the new wizard hanging on the wall. And be the first to raise their hand when Tommes, the Keeper arrived for dinner. This painting was different as it showed more than just a famous wizard. The twins studied it carefully and then not seeing any details that hinted at the names, they examined the gilded frame and attempted to read the worn inscription engraved on a brass plate. Normally, a brochure was placed on the table, but for this painting there was not brochure either. The two boys depicted near the wizard were about the same age as the twins.

"Who is it?" Ladius asked.

Ravi shrugged and pointed at the brass plate. The names engraved had long been obscured. Then Ravi questioned the Palace Guards who just shrugged as they had no idea about the painting. With a nod and a knowing look, the twins tore off toward the vault to gather up their Staffs. Minutes later, and at a speed that would have incurred a scolding from Mister Persons, the twins held the Staffs of Doppelganger in front of the painting.

"It was painted by Alexander," Ravi said as his Staff uncovered the first bit of evidence.

"About eight hundred years ago," Ladius said. "During the reign of Queen Sina."

"The wizard's name is Tancred," Ravi stated. Then both boys stared at the two boys depicted. They stepped closer for a better look.

"The painting is a fraud," Ravi said with certainty.

"Something is hidden," Ladius agreed. "But who are the two boys?"

"One is Platov," Ravi said. His Staff had determined that point but Ravi shrugged as he had no idea of who Platov even was.

"The other?" Ladius was listening carefully to his Staff. Clearly the Staffs of Doppelganger were perplexed as they could not determine the name of the second boy depicted. Tancred, the wizard was teaching the students, that much the Staffs were in agreement over. Both Staffs were convinced of a fraud. Ravi and Ladius' attention was drawn to the unnamed student's hand where a faint cloud had been painted. As if practicing lightning balls, the cloud was hovering at the tips of his fingers. The other student, Platov was holding out a wooden box and both appeared mesmerized by their lecturer, Tancred.

"Platov's face is also the wizard's face," Ladius finally stated as his Staff uncovered that fact. Examining the face behind the long trailing gray beard, the twins could see that the artist had indeed painted Platov's eyes and nose. A small detail that might have gone unnoticed except that the Staffs of Doppelganger were very thorough in their investigation. With a shrug as that appeared to be the fraud that the Staffs were speaking of, the twins cast an enchantment over the paintings so that nobody else would notice it. With a snicker for cheating at the contest, the twins tore off.

With a smirk, the Palace Guards who had witness what the twins had done, watched to see if the enchantment would keep all others from noticing. Later, a long line of visitors and castle dwellers past by the painting without taking any notice. Filing into the Great Dining Hall, students took their seats along the long tables while the Keeper's personal guests occupied prominent seating reserved especially for them.

Ladius and Ravi finishing their chores and then taking their places watched the door anxiously. Now to win the contest meant to not let on to anyone else what they knew. Suspicious that someone else had seen the painting, they conspired at ways to keep everyone busy. With a bit of mischief, forks and spoons kept tumbling onto the floor. The twins snickered but kept their eyes on the door.

Then at once, preoccupied with his guests, Tommes the Keeper arrived. Wearing a long blue robe with his Staff in his right hand, Tommes stepped through the door escorted by the assistant butler, Gaylord. Jumping up from their seats, Ladius and Ravi held their hands high while watching everyone else suspiciously. The Keeper always had prizes in his pocket for the winner. At first, they were not noticed by the Keeper, but when Tommes' eyes finally fell on the twins, he acknowledged them.

"A new painting," Ladius called out.

"The wizard's name is Tancred," Ravi finished.

"Platov and one other," Ladius also stated.

"We could not find the name of the third," Ravi admitted.

"Curious," Tommes said. "And do you know who Platov was?"

"No sir," Ladius admitted.

"There was no brochure," Ravi stated.

The other students stared dumbfounded to have missed the new painting.

"How do you know that the painting is of Tancred?" Grey, an invited guest of Tommes inquired.

"We asked it," Ravi replied. Grey knew the twins carried the Staffs of Doppelganger.

"The painting is a fraud," Ladius said. "We learned that much."

"A fraud?" Grey looked puzzled. "In what manner?"

"Platov is both the student and the wizard," Ladius said with certainty.

Tommes was amused that the twins had done such a thorough job of inspecting the painting. He truly had not looked at it, but he had heard from Mister Persons about Ruberta's outburst.

"I should like to have a better look," Grey amused by the twins decided to step back out into the foyer. Gaylord showed the wizard to the door.

Tommes in the meantime reached into his pocket and pulled out two prizes while the rest of the dumbfounded students stared enviously. Nobody else had taken any notice of the new painting. The twins took their prizes, two wooden boxes that when opened reminded them of tasks they still had to complete. As all of Tommes' guests were heading for the foyer, the students all curiously followed them.

The painting, rather large and painted with broad strokes loomed over the foyer. Faded with time, layers of dust, and darkening varnish, the scene depicted a benevolent wizard named Tancred imparting his wisdom onto youth. Everyone stared at the painting.

"In what manner do you claim that Platov stood in for the wizard?" Grey asked as he examined the masterpiece carefully.

"The same eyes," Ravi pointed out while Ladius nodded with authority. But their Staffs were saying that was not the fraud. Now the twin's attention was drawn to the box held in the outstretched hand of Platov.

"I see the resemblance," Grey said. "Not an uncommon practice of the day to have apprentices stand in for subjects."

As luck would have it, the uncanny ability of Ruberta to arrive at the very instance that any work of art was under scrutiny, she interrupted the gathering. Ladius stepped forward and touched the box that Platov was holding. A bit of paint flaked off and fell to the floor. Ruberta screeched as a work of historic art had been damaged!

"I think there is something under the box," Ladius said. He picked at the paint dislodging another small sliver of loose paint. Ruberta stepped forward and briskly pulled Ladius' hand back with harsh scolding words.

"There is something in his hand," Ravi said as he examined the other student depicted. Under the misty lightning ball, he could see the paint ridge forming a shape as if an egg were hidden.

Grey pulled out his spectacles and stepped closer. "I believe that they have discovered something."

"They painted over an egg," Ravi said even as Ruberta was pulling him away from the painting.

"I should like to have the painting examined," Tommes said as he too could make out the faint shape of an egg underneath a thin cloudy layer of paint. Another wizard with a magnifying loupe stepped forward. Examining the details carefully, he too agreed that something was hidden behind the cloud and box. Then he examined the ornate frame. A large oval was in the center of the bottom rail. Along the top rail were three more ovals, one in each corner and one in the center. The entire frame was gilded in gold leaf with accents of dark red along the inner edge. Years of dusting and polishing had worn away the gilding revealing a bright undercoating of red.

"A usual style of frame for the period," the wizard stated.

Ruberta without delay or intimidation immediately recited the rules and procedures that would have to be followed before the painting could be examined. She knew everyone by heart, as could be expected. Tommes compliantly stated that of course only an expert would be employed for the task. Then with a twinkle in his eyes, he nominated Ruberta for the supervisory position. Seconded by two other wizards, Ruberta was given the opportunity to investigate the ancient painting. With a smug smile for having dodged the wrath of the Society, Tommes invited everyone back into the dining hall.

Visit <http://oldmagiclibrary.net> for colorized illustrations and more.

# Chapter 2: The Unwilling Apprentice of Wraith

Now we travel back in time eight hundred years where an early wizard named Platov plots his escape from the evil wizard Wraith.

The Sage of Cent Fois

Having obtained a keen sense of smell Platov crept warily through the gloomy tunnels. He could also see in the dark as he rarely saw daylight. The cave where he was kept was always pitch black expect those parts illuminated with torches. He had learned to avoid the torches, for they meant that Wraith, the shadowy apparition of a ghost was about. Just turning twelve, Platov was held by the wicked wizard for the day when he might be useful for something. Wraith had never mentioned what that would be, not at least to Platov.

With long tangled light brown hair that hung over his hazel colored eyes, Platov had a narrow chin and a slight nose. His clothing was made of leather and the soles of his poorly fitting shoes were nearly worn through. Half-starved, he held his sword tightly and peeked around another corner in the labyrinth of passageways that kept him imprisoned. A sword against Wraith was futile, but the cave was filled with other creatures including a rather disagreeable dragon named Scorch. Sniffing the air, Platov disappeared into the obscurity of another tunnel. Creeping along slowly and utterly silently, he carefully made his way deep into the labyrinth. Wraith was preoccupied and would not be seen, but it was not the wicked wizard that Platov worried over.

He slipped across a large cavern and into another passageway heading toward a small hidden chamber. The last time he went this deeply into the labyrinth, he had discovered something. Having given the matter some consideration, Platov had decided that his discovery might be useful. The egg-shaped orb was also Wraith's prisoner. Platov had schemed over how they might ally themselves for their mutual benefit, namely escape from the clutches of Wraith.

Platov used his fingers to feel the edge of the tunnel, his nose carefully detecting anything that lie in wait just ahead. The air was stagnant and hot this far down into the cave. Wicked creatures lurked and he had already become acquainted with a few of them. Exactly twenty-seven steps down into the passageway there was a slight break in the solid stone wall. Without a keen sense of touch that crevice would go unnoticed as the evenness of the walls was only faintly disturbed. Behind that break, a hidden chamber with the egg-shaped orb concealed inside.

Platov whispered words and with the help of one small charm that nobody knew he had, he opened the chamber and slipped inside. Closing the crevice behind him, he turned and stared at the orb glowing faintly with a dark red aura. He could see two large black elongated eyes inside the egg blink.

"Treachery," the orb spoke.

"Speak nothing, for he will hear," Platov replied in a whisper.

"Daring," the orb said mockingly and quite unimpressed with his visitor.

Platov had no idea of what the orb's purpose was, nor had it mentioned its name the last time he visited. The orb could see into the future of that Platov was convinced. A strange sense of greed had driven him to seek out the orb again.

"I will take you with me," Platov whispered and glanced back at the crevice behind him nervously. He was smelling a worm.

Laughing rancorously at the foolish proposition being offered, the orb's black eyes flashed.

"Quiet," Platov cringed and glanced over his shoulder again.

"Do this," the orb instructed. "Go to the lair of Scorch. Take the one gemstone he treasures most. It is labradorite. Bring it back and you will have the power to defeat Wraith."

"Labradorite?" Platov asked in a low whisper.

"Many colors, sometimes green, sometimes blue," the orb explained with annoyance. In a vision created by the orb, Platov saw what it was that he was looking for. He also saw that it was hidden under the dragon's treasure of gold and jewels. Hex shaped, the stone glistened in the faint fiery glow of Scorch's slumbering breath.

"Then I shall fetch it," Platov declared. Perhaps he had not taken notice of the rather overweight dragon that was sleeping on the treasure.

"You shall make a tasty morsel for Scorch," the orb laughed maliciously.

Platov slipped out of the tiny chamber sealing the secret door behind him. With the foul smell of a worm nearby, he made a quick choice of directions and dashed off the way he had come. The sound of gnashing teeth filled the tunnel behind him. The worm was coming and fast!

Platov dashed across the big cavern and into a passageway that he knew. Running hard, he reached another crevice. Jumping up and crawling into the shortcut, he climbed up through the rubble reaching another tunnel. Making haste, he rushed back to his tiny chamber and closed the door behind him. The worm would pass by shortly but would not be able to pry open the door with its nasty teeth.

Touching off a lightning ball with the tips of his fingers, Platov sat down on the hard stone floor and scratched out his plans. Illuminate by the lightning ball, Platov drew with the edge of a sharp stone. He had been to the dragon's liar several times and knew the way. To reach the lair he would have to steal his way through the labyrinth while going up to the top of the mountain. The tunnels and caverns were all tangled together and subject to change. Creatures roamed the endless passageways while others lurked in murky places.

The problem was his own smell, for before he smelled the dragon, the dragon would smell him. Scorch would be waiting. Underfed, the foul green-speckled dragon with hypnotic lavender eyes would be hungry. Platov considered his plans. He had seen the colorful stone among the dragon's treasure. All he had to do was reach in and snatch it away. But how to distract a dragon long enough to claim his own freedom?

Considering abandoning the nasty orb, Platov schemed. The dragon's lair had a window to the outside world and Platov could just jump to freedom. But the orb captivated his interest as much as freedom beckoned. Imagining what the orb might know of the future, Platov was feeling strangely drawn to the possibilities. Their fates were now tangled together, but in what manner, Platov had no clue. Besides he could not escape from Wraith's grip by merely running away.

Magically, Platov conjured a small, fury spider and sent him off to gather details of Wraith's movements. Then bored with waiting, Platov conjured another spider with eight black fury legs and a red marking on its head just between its many eyes. He put the spider down on the floor and watched as the spider stared back. Then he conjured another spider just the same in every way. Sometimes he liked the brown and black spiders too.

"Will you take us with you?' The first spider asked pensively.

Platov nodded and sat brooding as he considered his possibilities.

"What about the dragon?" Platov sought the advice of his council.

"Dragons are not easily tricked into leaving their treasure unguarded," the second spider replied. Its many eyes blinked as it spoke in a scheming voice.

"A simple conjuring might work," the first spider considered.

"How?" Platov asked.

"Trick him," the first spider suggested.

"Outside his window," the second conspired. "Dragons are greedy."

"Then I could snatch the stone and make my way back to the orb," Platov schemed.

"If you get caught the dragoon will devour you," the first spider worried. "Or worse, Wraith will send you to the bottom of the labyrinth."

"You know what awaits you there," the second spider warned.

"I will not get caught," Platov declared. Then with a snap of his fingers both spiders vanished. He waited now. Sometimes the wicked wizard faded away and was gone for hours. Hopeful of such an opportunity, Platov lay back on the hard stone floor watching his lightning ball drift around the ceiling.

Time passes slowly in a dank stone chamber. Laying back and watching the glowing lightning ball, Platov schemed. Then he heard the tiny footsteps of his spy returning.

"The master is faded," the spider reported. Taking up a place near the wall under a small outcropping of stone, the spider's many eyes blinked and stared.

"Then we go," Platov said. But he did not make any move to lift himself up from the floor. Instead, he stared at the lightning ball considering one idea very carefully. With a snap of his finger, his spy vanished and Platov crept to the door. Sniffing the air carefully, he could tell the worm had been nearby, but now it was gone.

# Chapter 3: To Deceive a Dragon

The Dragon's Treasure

Platov was now hidden in another chamber. Digging in a corner filled with glowing stones. A swirling milky white mist was trapped inside the stones. Platov was searching for one stone that would fit his needs. Most of the stones were cracked and jagged along the edges and few had any true magic. Needing a flattened round rock without any cracks, broken edges, or indentations, the work of sorting through them in the dark was tedious. Keeping his nose and ears carefully tuned to the cavern behind him, Platov dug his way through the pile. Triumphantly, he pulled out a shard of milky white stone. Then taking another piece he cleaned up the edges by tapping away until it was shaped with six equal sides. Sparks flew from the stones while a nasty ghost known as Renato lingered nearby watching curiously.

"Escaping is foolish," Renato gloated.

Platov ignored the ghost's taunting and kept at the work. Once it looked right, Platov held it out and imagined it being a worthy stone. Needing it to be a certain color with a murkiness, he tried several enchantments. First the stone resembled gold, but too shiny. Then it resembled silver, but too dull. He tried something else while Renato mocked him mercilessly. Then he held up a dark green stone that looked convincingly like something valuable, but the wrong color. Frustrated with the tedious effort, Platov finally made it resemble the stone the orb had shown him. Murky, multicolored, six-sided, polished to a fine iridescent luster, it appeared quite valuable. A mysterious cloud swirled around inside taking on many shapes. For a final touch, Platov gave the stone a magical power certain to captivate the interest of a greedy dragon.

With keen eyes, dragons can spot a fake easily, but Platov had an idea. Carefully sniffing the next passageway for anything lurking, he made his way up through the winding tunnels. Coming dangerously close to the dragon's lair, he could feel the heat of Scorch's fiery breath and smell his foul sulfur stench. Shimming up into another passageway, Platov crawled through a tunnel that was directly over the dragon's lair. A cool breeze of fresh air filled the passageway as this was a way out of the labyrinth that Platov already knew about. If he could just leave this way, he would, except that the wicked wizard Wraith would find him. Besides the window that opened onto the world was very far up the sheer cliff of a high mountain.

Poking his head through the narrow window, the moonlight faintly illuminated the lair. Far below was a thick forest filled with snarling wolves. Conjuring a spider, he set it to its task of making a nice long thread from which to dangle the prize. Then lowering the stone, he dangled it directly in front of the dragon's lair. Swinging the glowing stone back and forth he waited for Scorch to become captivated by the offering.

"I smell you!" Scorch roared. A nasty plume of fire blasted from his lair lighting up the side of the cliffs with a red glow. The air was fouled with sulfur smelling smoke, but Platov held onto the spider's thread and moved the magical stone back and forth enticingly. Flames erupted again further lighting up the moonlit night. Then the dragon's head poked out. Platov dangled the stone just out of its reach.

"Who are you?" Scorch demanded to know.

"Platov," he replied.

Then the dragon's lavender eyes were watching the magically colored quartz stone shimmering in the moonlight. With another blast of fire, the dragon snorted and belched.

"I will trade you," Platov offered.

"For what?" The dragon snorted. It turned its head searching to capture Platov with its hypnotic eyes.

"For a smaller stone, just the same," Platov bargained.

"You would trade for a smaller stone?" Scorch snorted with laughter.

"Yes," Platov replied. "This big valuable stone with magic trapped inside for a smaller stone."

"I could just devour you and take the stone!" The dragon scoffed.

"No," Platov said. "You would not want to do that."

"Why not?" Scorch asked unpleasantly.

"Because..." Platov had to think it through. "Because then you will not get the big magic stone that I am offering. It will vanish!"

"So I give you a small stone and you give me a big stone," the dragon was considering. A puff of smoke drifted up and Platov was trying hard not to choke on the foul smell.

"Yes," Platov said. "It is filled with magic. Look at how the clouds swirl inside."

The dragon laughed rancorously and then with its right claw, reached out and tried to snatch the stone away. Just as quickly, Platov's spider reeled in the long thread and the stone was just out of the dragon's reach.

"You are trying to trick me," Platov said.

The dragon roared with rage and spewed forth fire.

"A trade," Platov said. "I give you the big, valuable gemstone for the small one that you have in your lair. It is not worth nearly as much."

The dragon snorted again and then its head was gone. Platov could hear Scorch turning over his pile of jewels and gold. Then with a roar from inside the lair, the dragon came back. Snorting fire and fouling the air with his breath, he laid the labradorite stone at the edge of his lair. Then he glared at Platov with his lavender eyes. The magic stone dangling just out his reach while the moonlight caught the swirling mist inside. The dragon was mesmerized with greed.

"Do we have a trade?" Platov asked.

"A trade," the dragon snorted. Unseen by Scorch, the spider tied up the small stone and just as the dragon caught the big stone with its claw, the small magic stone went sailing out of his reach. Platov caught the stone as the spider reeled it in.

Scorch laughed rancorously believing he had gotten the better part of the bargain. But the magic that enchanted the stone would soon fade and Scorch would see that he had nothing more than an old piece of worthless quartz. Platov had to make his escape fast!

As he held the small magic stone in his hand, Platov felt the immense power trapped inside. Momentarily dazed, Platov held the labradorite stone against the moonlight taking note of the inner cloud. Then tugged on by his spider, he leapt through the window and rushed away before the dragon found he had been cheated. Running fast, he dashed down the passageways.

"You have the stone?" The orb asked quite startled that Platov had succeeded.

"I traded the dragon for another," Platov replied.

"Brilliant," the orb laughed.

"I will take you with me," Platov reached down and picked up the orb.

Just then the sound of Scorch bellowing loudly filled the labyrinth as he discovered that he had been cheated. Platov rushed off in the other direction certain that Scorch would be coming for him. There was only one other way out of the labyrinth and Platov hurried in that direction.

Scorch was furious and as Platov ran hard, he could hear the dragon's angry words. A whiff of foul sulfur dragon's breath filled the dark passageways. Gripping the stone in one hand and the orb in the other, Platov dodged across a cavern into another tunnel.

"Take the first tunnel you come to," the orb advised.

Platov scattered up the passageway while Scorch's angry hissing was gaining on him. Turning into the first passage he came to, Platov could smell a worm.

"Thirteen steps, turn right!" The orb advised. Platov did not have time to question the instructions. Instead, he counted out thirteen quick steps and turned to face a solid wall of rock.

"Use your stone!" The orb commanded.

Platov could smell a worm coming from one direction and Scorch making his way through the cavern in the other direction.

"How?" Platov asked.

"Open the door," the orb shouted.

"Open the door," Platov repeated without understanding. But at the same moment the stone glowed and the wall in front of him melted away. A gust of cold, outside air hit him in the face. Without another word spoken, Platov leapt out the hole. How far down he fell, he could not imagine. But then landing in a large bough of a sticky pine tree he held on as the branch cracked and broke. Crashing down into the tree, Platov found himself face down in a thick layer of pine needles. But before he could gather himself up, he saw Scorch coming out of the same hole that Platov had escaped from. The sky lit up with fire as Scorch vented his rage.

"Where are you?" Scorch demanded to know. "I can smell you." A blast of fire ignited the tops of the trees over Platov's head.

Gaining his feet, Platov ran, jumping over tree roots and boulders. The forest lit up with red flames. Overhead, he could hear Scorch's wings flapping in the wind. Hissing angrily, the dragon was determined to hunt Platov down and roast him up for dinner.

"You have an enemy now," the orb said as Platov hid behind a large boulder. The fiery dragon breath was farther away as Scorch was looking elsewhere.

"An enemy I do not need," Platov said. He watched the fire in the sky closely and seeing that Scorch was moving away, Platov stumbled away from the boulder and ran as fast as he could. How far he ran, he did not know. Scorch was far behind him, but to either side of him he could hear the howling of wolves. Over his head, birds scattered with loud warning screeches. Holding his stone in one hand and the orb against his chest in the other, Platov kept on running. Then at once he broke out of the forest and found himself on a road. Stopping now and listening to the sounds of wolves behind him, the birds around him, and the other strange sounds of the forest, he considered which direction to take.

"Go south," the orb instructed.

"Which way is south?" Platov asked. He turned and faced the dark road in one direction. Ahead was a deep forest that clung to the sides of the road.

"The other direction," the orb replied.

Platov turned around and then not wasting another moment, he tore off heading into the gloomy darkness.

Daylight broke and Platov kept on, but he was becoming quite tired as he had been running for hours. New sounds of the forest were around him. Loud birds sang their songs. The howling wolves were gone and throughout the dark night, Platov had not seen a dragon above the trees. Finally exhausted, Platov dashed behind a large boulder just off the side of the road and sat down on the ground. Gasping for air and wondering where he was, Platov stared at the tangled trees all around him.

"A daring escape," the orb congratulated.

"Now what?" Platov asked.

"You will continue on," the orb advised. "Wraith will be looking for you."

"What about Scorch?" Platov asked.

"Scorch will always be your enemy," the orb advised. "He will be searching for you forever and if he ever finds you, he will devour you."

"I stole his stone," Platov sighed feeling a tad guilty. "I have two enemies then."

"Yes, in fact, you have earned two enemies," the orb replied. "Wraith will be looking for you as soon as he learns that you have escaped. He will be angry too as you took me with you. He will want us both back. You he will feed to Scorch. As for me, he will put me back into the cave where you found me."

"He is not going to find us," Platov said. Then having caught his breath he slipped out from behind the boulder.

Walking along, Platov listened to the forest around him. The sun was growing bright on the morning horizon and a warm wind was rustling the branches of the trees. A bird flew down, landed on a branch and watched as Platov walked by.

"What is your name?" Platov asked the orb.

"I am called the Sage of Cent Fois," the orb replied.

"What do I call you?" Platov asked as the name seemed rather long.

"Sage will be okay," the orb replied.

"Sage," Platov repeated and then walked along quietly for a long spell.

"Why were you kept in the cavern?" Platov asked.

"Evil wizards believe that they can force me to their will," Sage replied.

"What do you do?" Platov asked.

"Nothing that would be any use to the likes of you or any other wizard," Sage replied.

"Do you see the future?" Platov asked. "Because if you saw the future, then you could help me."

"The future," Sage chuckled. "I can see the future, but what I see is of no value to you."

"But you know things," Platov reasoned.

"I know things," Sage replied.

"Then you will tell me things?" Platov asked.

"I will tell you what you need to know," Sage promised.

"We will be friends," Platov said.

"Friends we are," Sage replied. "Keep on walking and soon you will come to a village. You will have to work for a meal or go hungry."

"I am hungry," Platov said. He continued on walking and as the sun was high overhead, the trees were beginning to thin. Marching along, he reached the end of the forest. A dry brown land lay ahead while overhead in the distant sky, large thunderheads were building up. Without the shade of the forest, Platov felt the heat of the early afternoon. At the insistence of Sage, Platov marched on following the trail, but as of yet no sign of the promised village lay ahead.

"Can you fish?" Sage asked.

"I do not know," Platov replied.

"There is a river ahead," Sage said. "You can catch a fish and make yourself a fine dinner. Then you could rest until tomorrow."

"What if Wraith finds me?" Platov asked.

"That is what you need your new stone for," Sage chuckled. "You will use it against him."

"I do not know how," Platov confided.

# Chapter 4: The Stars and the Moon

The Village of Pristina

Platov wandered for days following dirt tracks and trails through open arid land and dark haunted woods. Wolves snarled, bird screeched, rock slithers challenged his way, the trees themselves were nasty and unhelpful. No sign of Scorch, the dragon that would devour Platov on sight was seen, although an occasional dragon did fly over the trees. Wraith had not come looking for Platov either. After days of wandering, Platov's orb suggested that he ought to stop worry so much about Wraith. Platov after all had the power to defeat the wicked wizard and an ally that would tell him how when the time came.

On this day, Platov had been following a well-traveled road that meandered through the forest. Hungry and tired, Platov stumbled upon a small village nestled behind a rusted iron gate. Overhead, inscribed on the keystone was the name Pristina. Just beyond the gate, Platov could smell fish broiling over hot coals and the aroma of stone-ground bread baking. Without knowing who waited for him inside the walls, Platov bravely pushed open the gate and slipped inside.

The village was not terribly crowded as only a few people were near the central square. One high tower rose up at the end of the square, while cluttered workshops and hovels haphazardly scattered about occupied most of the available space. The smell of food cooking was the only real part that Platov took much notice of as he was terribly hungry.

"You will have to find a chore," Sage spoke as Platov looked over his prospects. "Offer to sweep the floors, gather firewood, or clean the stables. Surely, someone will take pity on you if you work honestly."

Platov cautiously walked toward the single tower. Made of irregularly cut stone the tower was blackened near the base. With a single door at the top of a short stoop, the tower rose up high over the village. High up at the very top was a single window just under the peaked slate roof. All around the tower, tall, unkempt weeds and grasses grew except for a short pathway that led from the town square. Platov examined the tower carefully and then scoured the cluttered workshops to either side of the square. Men with long beards, dark eyes, and covered with dirt and soot from a hard day's labor peered out of the workshops at Platov. Then his eyes fell on a boy who came darting out of workshop. The same age as Platov, the boy had long black hair and dark skin. He wore a leather skirt with a plain but dirty cloth shirt. His feet were covered in leather shoes with long laces that wound their way up his ankles culminating just below his knees. With big eyes, the boy bounded toward Platov.

"Who are you?" The boy asked.

"Platov."

"Where did you come from?' The boy inquired curiously.

Platov pointed beyond the gates, but where he had come from was actually a bit of a mystery as he had no idea.

"I have walked many days," Platov said. Given his appearance as he wore tattered clothing, torn shoes, and dirty long hair, he fit the part of a wanderer.

"I am Tate," he said introducing himself with big eyes. "Tatton actually, but I prefer Tate."

"I want to find work so that I might earn a morsel of food," Platov begged and watched as Tate looked him over.

"You will have to see Sabian," Tate said. He pointed at the tall dark tower just beyond the squalor of the square. "He is a wizard. He owns this village. We all work for him."

"Sabian," Platov muttered shyly. "Is he kind?"

"I suppose," Tate said. "Do not ever see much of him. He does not come out of his tower much. Go knock on the door and ask him for a job."

Platov nodded but then noticed a grizzly looking man standing at the door of the workshop that Tate had bounded out from. Wagon wheels were piled up around while just in front of the door was a workbench with tools scattered about. The man called after Tate, but Tate waved him off saying that he was taking the newcomer to see Sabian. Without comment, the grizzly workman disappeared back into the workshop.

Being confidently led by Tate, Platov approached the tower cautiously. Encouraged and driven by the need to eat, Platov climbed the stoop and then reached up to the knocker. The sound of the iron knocker was little more than a thud that echoed back from somewhere inside. Then terrified that Wraith would open the door, Platov stood back and waited. Tate wanted to drag Platov back to the workshop right away so that he could show him how to work. Impatiently, he stood back while Platov stared at the weathered wooden door. Then he heard a sound inside the tower and before he could dash away, the door swung open.

An ancient bearded wizard wearing a gray robe with a pointed hat stood on the other side of the entry. He held a forged iron twisted Staff in his hand and stared out at Platov with gray misty eyes. His robe was adorned with symbols while several charms hung from his rope belt.

"Yes," the wizard inquired.

"I am Platov," he replied with a gulp.

"And you have come asking for a job so that you might eat?" Sabian asked.

"How did you know?" Platov asked.

"I know everything that is important," Sabian replied. "Why I have seen you approaching for several hours now. You have courage to wander the forest alone."

"I have seen dragons, wolves, and slithers," Platov admitted.

"The forest is filled with creatures!" Sabian laughed with sparkling eyes.

Platov gulped as he watched the gray wizard.

"I am hungry, set me to a task and I will not disappoint you," Platov pleaded.

"Tatton, take Platov and tell Hanze that I said he is to have his supper first. Tomorrow will be soon enough for you to be shown what to do." Sabian instructed.

"Thank you, sir." Platov said humbly. Then with one last glance at Sabian, he darted off with Tate.

...

Having earned two enemies by the age of twelve, Platov had also found in Tate his first real friend. Pristina was a busy place as most of the men worked in the foundry making kettles from iron ore. The smoke from the fires was black during the daytime as iron ore was smelted and sent into molds that formed the kettles. Daily, wood had to be gathered from the forest while twice a week, wagons were loaded with kettles and taken to a far away market. Platov was given a job working alongside Tate fixing the wagons as needed or gathering wood when required. With a little bit of straw set in a corner of the wagon shop, Platov had a warm place to sleep at night. Dinner was never much, usually just fish caught from a nearby Adzes River at the bottom of the steep chasm. Certain men of the village tended to the fishing and occasional hunting, while several women who wore scarves over their heads tended to baking the bread and filleting the fish. Pristina was a quiet town where nothing much out of the ordinary ever happened. The days meandered along with few changes in routine or circumstances. Just as Tate had said, Sabian rarely was seen as he never left his tower. At night, candlelight could be seen flickering in the single window high up at the very top of the blackened tower. Tate was no wizard, but Platov had confided in him that he had magical abilities. He had shown Tate his ill-gotten stone and the orb as well.

"Platov!" Hanze called. The village was busy as the men had just come back from the river with the day's catch of fish. Fires burned in the center of the town sending a plume of gray smoke into the forest.

"Yes sir!" Platov called back. Evidently, Hanze did not hear him for just as Platov answered him, Hanze called again and not so kindly this time.

Platov dashed from the gatehouse with Tate at his side.

"Yea," Platov said as he produced himself to Hanze.

"Be making a fire!" Hanze grouched and pointed to where the coals of his furnace were growing cold.

"Yea," Platov dashed off and gathered up several dried and split logs to toss onto the smoldering coals. Sparks filled the air over the furnace. Then Platov stood back stirring the fire with a long iron poker.

"Be fixing them wagon wheels!" Hanze demanded.

"The day, it be about done," Platov replied meekly.

"There by time yet," Hanze growled. "Then ye can go."

"Yea," Platov nodded and then with Tate he ran off to pull out one of the broken wagon wheels. Tate brought a second back and then both looked over the wheels missing several spokes. The road to the market was rough and the wagons heavily loaded took a beating. Tate pulled the broke spokes out and then went to the woodpile to find some lengths of wood to replace them with. Platov in the meantime took a length cut from a long branch and began peeling off the bark with a spokeshave. The sharpened metal blade cut through the bark and then catching it with just the right angle and pulling real hard, the entire length of bark peeled off the branch.

"We be working until dusk to fix these," Tate grumbled as he brought back several branches of the right size. He set them out in a row and then taking the one that looked the best, he set to cleaning away the bark just as Platov was doing.

"Canst you hex them?" Tate asked as he wanted to get the work done. The smell of broiling river trout was filling his nostrils. He was thinking more about his empty stomach than having to work on wagon wheels for several more hours.

Platov looked around slyly and then seeing Hanze in the back working over the coals, he motioned with a slight movement of his head. Taking the hint, Tate picked up his work and then the two of them slipped around behind the workshop.

Holding out his labradorite stone, Platov wished the work to be done. Four new spokes perfectly shaped and sized appeared. Tate glanced over his shoulder and then they hurried back to their workbench. Testing the spokes, they found them to fit fine. Proudly, they rolled the wheels inside for Hanze's approval.

"Ye be getting them done mighty fast!" Hanze said without looking took closely at the work.

"We had the spokes," Platov said. "We just had to trim them a bit to make them fit proper."

"Then be gone with you today," Hanze waved them away.

Leaning the wheels against the wall, Platov and Tate hurried away. Finding a dinner of fish skewered on a stick, they climbed up to the top of the village's walls and sat with their feet dangling over the parapet. Down below people were closing up their workshops for the evening while in the tall stone tower, a single torch flickered in the high window. Nightfall was coming on with an approaching bank of dark storm clouds.

"The wizard be watching," Tate said looking suspiciously up at the tower window.

"Do you thinks he be telling Hanze what we did?" Platov asked. Then he took the stick with the broiled fish and bit off a chunk.

"He did not see us?" Tate asked with a tad of guilt.

"I don't thinks he be watching," Platov said. "We done it before." Glancing up warily at the top of the tower, Platov could not help but to notice a brass rod tuning on the very top of the roof. Curiously, he watched as the brass rod turned first in one direction and then back the other way.

"He be strange," Tate said as he too watched the brass rod. "Be best not to be looking at this contraption, it's bewitched."

"I wonder what it is?" Platov asked.

"A telescope," Sage replied. Startled, Tate looked over at the sturdy cloth bag that Platov kept tied to his belt.

"What is a telescope?" Platov asked while Tate tried not to smirk as the talking orb was the strangest thing.

"A device for viewing the stars and the moon," Sage replied. "Sabian has stumbled upon you fate."

"What hast I got to do with the stars and the moon?" Platov asked.

"You will soon find out," Sage replied.

Tate stared at the cloth bag where the voice was coming from and then looked at Platov with a shrug.

"The stars and the moon," Platov muttered.

# Chapter 5: The Moonstone

Rescue the Moonstone!

Late that same night, nestled in their warm corner of the wagon maker's shop, a wicked storm blew in. Lightning lit up the sky while thunder crashed around them shaking the old rickety workshop. The wind picked up, howling through the baton siding and rattling loose shingles on the roof. The fire glowed brightly as the wind whipped through the workshop. Then a silence fell as if the storm had suddenly ended. Listening keenly and wondering when the next clap of thunder would shake the old workshop, Platov stared at the smoldering fire watching as red embers flew up the chimney.

The sound began only as if the wind were beginning to blow again. Howling with a shrill whistle, the fire suddenly sent a shaft of embers up the chimney. But then the sound grew sharply as if something were crashing through the trees. With a series of loud snaps the trees were being shattered. Then the thunder shook the wagon maker's shack. Curious of the new sound, Platov and Tate both leapt up from the straw bedding and looking out the door. A huge glow of red light filled the sky just beyond the village walls. Combined with the sound of trees crashing to the ground the sight had made for a very curious moment.

"A moonstone has fallen from the heavens!" Sabian's voice bellowed over the sleepy village.

Platov and Tate both ran to the door and stared out at the sight of the old gray wizard hastily making his way from his tower. Lightning lit up the sky again and in that flash, Platov could see Sabian's determination to make it to the village gates. Carrying his Staff, Sabian was lighting his way with a soft pale glow. The storm was blowing up a huge whirlwind of broken leaves and debris that splattered against the walls of Pristina. Other people hearing Sabian's urgent call came out. Curiously, Platov and Tate dashed out the door into a splattering of driving rain.

"We must rescue the moonstone!" Sabian called to them both with urgency in his trembling voice. "Hurry!"

Racing to the gatehouse, they stopped only for a moment as another flash of blinding lightning lit up the sky. The sound of distant thunder ensued followed by the howl of wolves in the far distance.

"Hurry lads!" Sabian called. "The moonstone is in peril!"

In peril of what, Platov did not take the time to consider. Instead, the two of them rushed through the gate. Following the outer walls around to where they had seen the red fireball light up the sky. Trees in the path of the meteorite had been sheered off while a strange red glow formed through the mist.

"Hurry," Sabian with amazing speed had caught up with them. "Take sticks and hoist it up. We must keep the moonstone safe."

Platov and Tate dashed off to find that a small glowing red stone had embedded itself into the soft ground but not too deeply. Finding broken branches, they pushed at the stone trying to dislodge it. Glowing red, they could feel the heat of the stone.

Anxiously, Sabian was directing the rescue operation as more workers rushed to help. Superstitious of the meteorite, the men poked at the small stone with long branches. Then gaining leverage from underneath the meteorite was pried from it burrow. Glowing bright red the sticks were smoldering. While watching the men work, Platov looked up and noticed the sky was ablaze with more fireballs.

"Nothing to fear," Sabian said reassuringly as he noted both Tate and Platov watching the shower of falling stars.

"The sky be falling?" Tate asked suspiciously.

Workers still grabbling to save the meteorite from whomever it was that Sabian feared looked up suspiciously. With a stick, one of the workers managed to coax the stone onto the boughs of a shattered conifer tree. Smoldering with the heat, the pine needles crinkled and smoked. Dragging it behind them and at Sabian's utter insistence, the men headed for the gatehouse of Pristina. Moments later, as all were accounted for the gates were closed and the heavy wooden doors were closed.

Now the moonstone small enough to hold in a single hand was pulled into the center of the village. The branch used to drag it was burning and the stone still glowing red, but Sabian explained that it was cooling. As to what it was, Sabian only stated that it had fallen from the moon and that explained why it was so hot. He had been watching with his telescope when he saw it coming. And what good fortune it was that it landed so close to the village where it could be easily rescued from the clutches of an evil wizard.

"But what does a moonstone do?" Platov asked. He had been one of the few daring to come close enough for a thorough inspection. Noting that it appeared to throb slightly, Platov sensed a strange magic about the stone. His own labradorite stone was throbbing while he could sense that Sage was the most curious admirer of all.

"Great magic!" Sabian explained. "Very rare, but potent. We shall have to hide it for an evil is already on the way. Dig a hole and cover the moonstone with dirt. Hurry! Wraith is almost upon us."

"Wraith?" Platov gasped.

"I sense his greed," Sabian said as he examined the sky beyond the gatehouse.

Platov dashed off to the workshop.

Gathering up his cloak and tightening the cloth bag with Sage inside around his belt, Platov looked nervously toward the door.

"I hast to be gone!" Platov said as Tate watched. "The wicked wizard be coming."

Tate did not know the whole story as Platov had never mentioned anyone by name, but now he understood that Wraith was the wicked wizard Platov had escaped.

"You are too late," Sage's muffled voice said from inside the cloth bag. "Wraith is just beyond the gates. His greed is set upon the moonstone."

Just then a clap of wicked thunder shook the ground. Platov peeked out through the doorway and could see wizard lightning clashing just beyond the gatehouse. The wizards were lashing out at each other with Wraith demanding the moonstone while Sabian was refusing to surrender it. Platov pulled the doors shut tightly and then went to the tiny window to see if he could see anything. There was a door in the back of the workshop. Platov glanced at his escape route when Wraith came calling.

"Use your magic stone," Tate said as he too peeked out through the window. Strange green and blue lightning whistled through the skies as the wizards battled.

"Then he knows I be here," Platov said, gripping the labradorite stone in his hand tightly. The ground shook again as a wave of deep blue lightning ripped through the sky. Trees snapped off beyond the village walls followed by a counterblast of brilliant charred red lightning. Glinting off the top of the blackened tower, the wicked red lightning shot up into the sky. For a moment, the world was lit up brightly red as the sky ignited and the ground shook again. Both Platov and Tate jumped up into the air grabbing hold of rafters as a wave of red wickedness swept across the ground. The workshop shook and tools fell from the workbenches. Platov dropped back to the floor and peeked out the small window while Tate decided to just keep his grip on the rafters. A counterblast of blue filled the sky around the village and with a grumbling sound the ground shook.

"Conjure a lightning ball," Sage said. "Toss it to the top of the tower."

Platov held the labradorite stone willing it to conjure the lightning ball. Glowing and sparkling in the air just above Platov's hand, the lightning ball grew in size and intensity. Then kicking open the door, Platov let it go free. Watching as it floated to the top of the tower, Platov was in awe of the menace he had conjured. Then as Sage spoke in old words, the lightning ball exploded. A huge glowing cloud of amber covered the village walls and then decisively spread out in all directions beyond the walls. The sound of the explosion was deafening. A screaming fiery ball shot down over the village gates taking aim at Wraith. Then only the sound of the massive lightning cloud spreading outwards and through the forest. Platov watched the sky as the wave of light spread away.

Then Sabian was filling the doorway.

"Did you do this?" Sabian demanded to know.

"Yea," Platov nodded and was still holding the labradorite stone in his hand. The evidence was more than circumstantial.

"Let me see," Sabian whose hat had been scorched stormed closer and looked over the stone in Platov's hand.

"Has Wraith gone?" Tate asked as he approached cautiously.

"He has retreated," Sabian replied, but his interest was on the labradorite stone in Platov's hand. "How is it that you have such a powerful stone?"

"I traded with a dragon for it," Platov replied meekly.

"You have defeated Wraith," Sabian said. "Remarkable! Tell me, what is the name of the dragon that you traded with?"

"Scorch," Platov admitted.

"Why, Wraith's dragon," Sabian chuckled. "A strange and most unexpected twist. One that took Wraith by surprise."

"I have two enemies," Platov admitted. "One is Wraith, the other is Scorch."

"You are far too young to have earned not just one but two enemies," Sabian said. Then his eyes were on the bundle of soft sturdy cloth wrapped up to Platov's belt. "What other surprises do you hold?"

"A Sage," Platov gulped.

"Curious," Sabian said. "The night has been full of surprises. I suppose you have captured these things from Wraith's cave?"

"Yes sir," Platov gulped. "I was conscripted to him, but I escaped and bring with me the Sage and the Stone."

"I see," Sabian said. Then he stroked his long white beard for a moment. "You are still apprenticed to Wraith. You had best be gone before he returns. Wraith will be looking for what you have quite anxiously."

"But how will you keep him from having the moonstone?" Platov asked.

"Wraith will not care about the moonstone now that he knows where the Stone of Cuore is," Sabian stated. "Hurry now! Take the river and be away from here as Wraith will redouble his efforts."

Rushing out the door with Tate right behind him, they went through the gate and then disappeared into the woods. Making their way along the trail to the river, they reached the great chasm. Amid flashes of lightning that lit up the dark stormy sky, they followed the precarious trail down to the edge of the river. Taking a boat, Tate took to the front while Platov took the back. Using paddles they guided the narrow river boat into the waters and once it was caught in the current, they were gone into the night.

# Chapter 6: Alexander

Alexander's Painting Studio

The boat raced down the river over chutes of foaming white water. With the sound of thunder amid a downpour of torrential rain, neither Platov nor Tate could see what was ahead. Nor could they hear the growing roar of the river. Then with an unexpected thud the boat rebounded off a dark rock. Tate attempted to guide the boat with a single paddle. But then boat was caught in a rush of gushing water. Gaining speed in the fast-moving chute, the boat toppled over a cascade. Then in the confusion of lightning setting the sky ablaze, the boat swirled around aimlessly in a complete circle before being captured by the strong currents again. Gaining speed, they could hear the oncoming torrent over the grumbling thunderstorm. The boat struck boulders again, bouncing off to one side only to rebound back. Tate's paddle broke and helplessly they went down a foaming chute. With a resounding crash the boat struck rock solidly, splintering into pieces.

Tate and Platov were washed down the river in a deep torrent of raging whitewater. Pulled by the currents, nearly drowned they came ashore on a wide plateau of gritty rock. Checking themselves to see if anything was missing, both caught their breath. Illuminated for a split-second by a flash of lightning, they could see the dark outline of a cave carved from the sandstone cliffs. Platov led the way into the narrow overhand and then seeing no creatures inside, he went inside. The chasm lit up again with earsplitting thunder while the rain poured down in torrents. Tate jumped back then Platov conjured a lightning ball and sent it hovering against the low ceiling. Strange markings in the shape of men covered the walls with worn scratches and faded colors. Platov stared at the figures and felt a strange magic among them.

"What are we going to do?" Tate asked as he pulled off his sopping wet shirt and wrangled it with his hands. He pulled out his sword and wiped it down with the wet shirt.

"We be wandering now," Platov said and already missed the comfort of Sabian's village.

"Wraith be finding you here?" Tate asked pensively. He too was examining the strange cave painting. He took notice of what appeared to be a man holding a spear.

Platov shrugged as he did not know if Wraith was hunting him down. Reaching down he checked to be certain he still had Sage and then he turned over his pouch, pouring out the river water and finding the labradorite stone safely inside.

"This dragon, he be flying overhead?" Tate asked as he watched a streak of fire high over the canyon. In a flash of lightning, he saw the shape of a dragon flying against the dark, stormy sky.

"I don't know where Scorch be," Platov said with resignation. Then stripping off his sopping shirt, he wrung it out just as Tate had. Water poured out onto the floor of the cave. "So we stays here until morning, then we departs."

Tate sat down next to Platov. "I be going with you."

"Don't hast to," Platov said. "Wraith, he not be seeking you."

"We stick together," Tate said. "I got no magic, but I thinks of something if the wicked one shows his face."

Platov nodded. "Suppose Sabian be fit when he finds we sunk his boat."

"Suppose," Tate agreed. Just then a bolt of lightning lit up the river and with blast of thunder, Platov's lightning ball was snuffed out.

Platov conjured another lightning ball and both stared out at the rain coming down. Watching pensively over the river, the only sound was the rushing water as the rain finally subsided.

Feeling the gritty sandstone under his fingers, Tate felt cold metal. Curiously, Tate dug away at the floor pulling up a large coin. He held it up while Platov examined the worn coin. Tiny but unreadable letters surrounded the figure.

"I wonder what it is worth?" Tate asked as he held the coin out.

Platov shrugged, "it is like these figures painted on the wall." He turned around and studied the faded figures intensely, burning the markings and symbols into his memory. Then he examined the coin again.

"The coin has the magic of these figures," Platov said. "They are the same."

"It would be best to discard the coin," Sage said.

"No, I found it," Tate said.

"Then put it into your pouch, but be aware that it might attempt to trick you one day. The coin is cursed," Sage advised.

Tate dropped the coin on the ground and then kicked it away. The coin rolled into the shadows of the cave disappearing into the eroded rock.

Both stared out at the river for a long time before finally dosing off into a wearisome sleep. It was not until morning when the light of day finally reached deep into the canyon that Platov awoke. Exploring the cave a bit more, they examined the many scratches etched into the sandstone. There were many more figures to be seen in daylight. Then decided that they best be far away before nightfall came again, the two of them took to a narrow pathway that followed along the edge of the river. In places the path was missing and they had to wade through water and climb over boulders. Then the unexpected sight of eroded stone steps carved from the very sandstone canyon walls caught them both by surprise. A massive column framed an ornately cast pair of bronze doors.

Curious of their discovery, both crept up the weathered and broken steps and studied the symbols over the keystone. They were the same as the coin that Tate had found and discarded the night before.

A crow angrily scolded them and sensing something enticingly mysterious, Platov held out his stone. Commanding the doors to open, they both jumped back as the massive bronze entry cracked open. With the creaking of long unused hinges, the doors swung open. Tate and Platov stared into the dark cavern beyond. A skeleton was sitting just inside the door. Holding a spear, the bones once must have been the guardian of the forgotten place.

Creeping slowly around the guardian, they slipped closer and stared up at the vaulted ceiling towering over their heads. Steps led up into a long corridor but beyond, all was dark. Then the sound of the wicked crow heckling raucously made them both jump.

Tate reached down and examined a rusted spear and shield that lay on the floor. A nearby skeleton suggested the previous owner. Platov was sensing a strange magic and hearing a soft enchanting voice singing deep inside the dark cavern. He took another step and then examined the skeleton suspiciously.

"What are you boys doing in there?" A husky voice from outside the door bellowed. Tate dropped the rusted spear while Platov whirled around to stare at a man standing just outside the door. He held a long spear with several skewered fish. Over his shoulder he held a basket woven with reeds.

"We be looking," Platov answered meekly.

"Be best you not being going in there," the man bellowed. "It be haunted with ghosts that will not take kindly to the likes of you."

Tate not needing another warning dashed out the doors while Platov jumped in right behind him. The massive bronze doors closed with a thud. The tempting singing of the siren was extinguished. They both cowered at the man who had found them. He was short, but strong with a thick bushy black beard. His eyes were dark as night, his face fierce, and his bare skin tanned from spending his days fishing in the river. With powerful muscles, the man stared down at them both.

"I have not seen the likes of either of you before," the man said.

"We came from there," Tate gulped and pointed up the river.

"I see the wreckage of a boat, was that yours?" The man inquired.

"Yea, we crashed upon the rocks," Platov replied.

"That part of the Adzes River is not passable," the man scoffed. "Come then, you best not be hanging around these doors. Some say that a temptress will beguile you with her song."

Platov and Tate gulped as the man's eyes bore down on him. Platov had heard the song of the siren.

"I am Jamos," he said and then pointed down the river.

"I am Platov."

"Tate."

"Then come along, mighty strange to find you both rambling about," Janos said. "A wonder you didn't drown in the river."

Obediently, the two marched down the stairs and then picking up the narrow pathway along the riverbank. Long braided ropes dangled down from the very top of the cliff. Janos wanted to show them how to use the ropes to climb to the top.

"Ye be holding on tight, puts your feet where I puts mine," Janos instructed.

The climb to the top was incredibly hard and the boys lagged behind their guide. Stopping at a place where there was a wide foothold, they looked down at the river rambling along far below. Then they started climbing again while struggling to find places to put their feet. Janos was far ahead of them and only looked back occasionally with encouraging words.

At the top of the cliff they found large stones that were turned upright. To these the long ropes were tied. Beyond were the stone walls of the village.

"I know what to do with the likes of you," Janos said as they started out. He still had the day's catch of fish in his basket. Stepping off briskly, the boys followed him but at a distance. Undecided whether to go into the village or bolt, the boys considered their options carefully. Janos looked back once or twice but otherwise did not wait for them. Reaching the town's walls, they decided to go through the gate. The village was bigger than the one they had left. With turrets spread along the top of the protective wall, the village appeared well prepared for any threat. Inside the walls, much like Pristina, hovels filled every available space. Janos was waiting for them in the market square while pointed them out to several jolly looking men. Women with scarves tied over their hair glanced up and shook their heads.

"Do you suppose they will tie us up?" Tate asked suspiciously.

"I do not know," Platov said apprehensively. The men were pointing and laughing. "Maybe we just be on our way."

A woman with a worn, linen white scarf tied around her head stepped forward. She waved at the reluctant boys to come closer. The men laughed boisterously and were talking about going to fetch someone.

"They be thin," the woman said.

"They not be eating," another woman approached. Then she gruffly squeezed Tate's arm as if to check if he had any meat on his bones. Tate flinched but then was dragged away by the woman while the first one took Platov with equal vigor.

"All skin and bones. Eat now!" The woman said and stirred up a stew of boiled fish bones, she ladled out a small morsel into the bottom of an earthen bowl. Forcing it into Platov's hand she stood back and watched. Tate was honored equally.

Now while spooning up the meager portion of fish soup, another man stormed across the square. He was tall and wore a dirty shirt covered with colors of all sorts. Splashes of purple, blue, red, orange, and green all mixed together into a muddy mess. His hat was just as stained while his fingers were covered in colors like his shirt. He walked with a determined attitude directly toward Platov. His eyes flashed and his nose was long, but also covered in blue paint.

"Ye be helping the painter," Janos said. "He thinks he is famous."

"They hast no experience!" The artist scoffed as he studied the boys carefully. His name was Alexander and according to the fishermen, he was very temperamental. But he was the only one in the whole village that could afford to hire two helpers, so Janos and the women were very hopeful. To earn a meal, was to have a job to pay for it with.

"Ah, gives them a broom to sweep up with," Janos said. He walked around the boys as if he was now scrutinizing their value.

"We be just passing," Tate said.

"We broke our boat," Platov admitted.

Alexander examined their faces and then grew angrier. He threw his hands up in the air and stormed off in a rage. But as Janos indicated, that meant that they were hired and would at least get a decent meal if they helped the artist a bit. With a nudge, Janos sent them chasing after the great artist.

Inside his workshop, Alexander had a great mess. Paint pigments, some dry and some mixed with a smelly oily mess in bowls, brushes lying all about, flat glued up boards, some painted, others just piled up, statues half-finished, and clutter filled every nook and cranny. Platov and Tate cautiously looked over the squalor and wondered what they should do.

"Holds it up!" Alexander demanded. He was moving his painting board around then he pointed at a shield leaning against the wall. Alexander wanted Platov to stand in the light holding the shield just so, but he did not explain very much. Then in a rage of angry words, Alexander showed them both what he wanted. Platov held the shield up while Tate picked up a sword and held it out. Framing them both with his hands, the artist picked up a paint brush. Then making a great deal of noise clicking, complaining, sneezing, and blaming the boys for not being exactly correct, he began to paint.

"Hold still!" Alexander demanded again and again. The shield was heavy and Platov's arm was growing tired. Tate likewise was twitching as holding a pose for a long time was becoming tedious. Alexander jumped out from behind his painting and rearranged them both, then complained of the fading light. Finally, outraged that nothing was the way he wanted it, he threw his paint brush down and stormed around in a fitful mood. Demanding that they start over first thing in the morning when the light was right Alexander dismissed them.

# Chapter 7: The Commission

The Problem with Posing

"Ye be not worthy!" Alexander screamed as he threw the shield and sword into a pile of miscellany. Having spent most of the morning stamping his feet, throwing paint, brushes, and props around, the great artist was in quite a mood. Having boys pose when he wanted men was not helping matters any. Ripping down his painting he had started the day before, he threw it across the studio and glared angrily. Platov shrugged, but in truth, he had never met such a strange, disagreeable man before.

"What do you do?" Alexander demanded as he picked up various costumes and threw them back.

"Me?" Platov replied meekly.

"What are you?" Alexander demanded.

"We fix wagons," Tate said.

"I do not need a painting of common boys!" Alexander scoffed.

"We can sweep up," Platov offered.

Alexander drew near examining Platov's face carefully. "I do not see wagon boys. I see something...yes, I see a sparkle in your eyes. You are a wizard!" Then he glared at Tate. "And you are not! You are a wagon boy."

"I have magic," Platov admitted.

Tate cringed and felt shame in being who he was.

"Then perform magic! Paint a great work of art," Alexander demanded. With a scoff he stood back and put his paint stained hand under his chin while expecting something remarkable to happen.

"I can make spiders," Platov offered.

"And why would someone want a painting of an urchin who can make spiders?" Alexander scoffed.

"I have a magic stone," Platov suggested.

"A magic stone?" Alexander looked curiously.

"Let him see it," Tate urged Platov.

Pulling the labradorite stone from his pouch Platov held it out. Shimmering in the light with many shades of rich green and iridescent blue, the stone had a mist about it.

Alexander threw his hands up in the air and in a rage stormed off to throw more costumes and props on the floor. Then he came right at Platov pulling him in front of the window. Then turning Platov around gruffly so that his youthful face captured the light he glared contemptuously.

"Hold the stone up!" Alexander demanded. Then he stepped back and framed the portrait with his hands. He moved from side to side looking for the best vantage point. "Hold still!"

Alexander was behind the painting board again making a racket of clicking, complaining, sneezing, and endless rants. Platov held still but soon his arm was growing tired.

"Tate, take his place and do not lose the pose!" Alexander growled. Then without stopping he continued to paint while Tate exchanged places with Platov.

"The stone does not glow!" Alexander noticed immediately. Stepping out from behind the painting he glared at the labradorite stone expecting it too to be cooperative.

Platov reached over and touched the stone, setting it to glow while Tate looked terrified to have it in his hand.

"Do not move," Alexander threatened.

Over the course of the entire morning, Platov and Tate switched places while the artist dabbled and jabbed paint with his brushes and palette knife. Without ever having seen what he was doing, they were finally dismissed. Given a copper each, Alexander demanded that they go. The boys just did not inspire him, or so he said coldly.

"I guess we be done," Platov sighed. He had never spent so much time with such a disagreeable person, not even Wraith. Together they left the artist's studio and wandered toward the main square of the village.

"Tonight we get to eat," Tate said, as he tried to shake off Alexander from his mind.

...

Days had past and the two found chores where they could, such that they could afford to share a meal. The blacksmith was letting them sleep in the corner of his shop with an old scratchy dog. Thinking about wandering on, the boys were asking what lay beyond the village walls.

"You be making a tasty morsel for the wolves," the blacksmith said. He had a long black beard, one eye, and an arm that had been burnt to blackness. "Go gather up some firewood, I needs to be tending my chores."

Tate shivered while Platov decided that maybe they ought not venture beyond the walls of the village very far. Gathering up firewood in a nearby forest, they were listening carefully for the wolves. At night they could hear them howling and sometimes when they went up on the walls, they could see their eyes flash in the moonlight. Hurrying with their task, they dragged firewood through the gate. Then they went about the work of cutting and stacking it up. Rewarded with enough for a small bowl of stew and bread, they hunkered down in the back of the blacksmith's shop for the rest of the afternoon.

Then Alexander appeared at the door. He wanted them back to model for his next masterpiece, a paying commission. With no time to spare, Alexander marched them to a nearby tree. Then pacing around, he studied them closely. Rearranging them with a gruff hand, Alexander finally appeared ready to paint.

"Where is the stone?" Alexander asked as Platov's hands were empty.

Platov obediently withdrew the labradorite stone and held it in his hand. A misty aura surrounded the stone.

"The other, the thing that talks?" Alexander said. "Make Tate hold that. You are academics and being taught by a great noble wizard. I want you to look the part...though I have my doubts."

Tate watched as Platov set down the labradorite stone and then untied the cloth bag that was always attached to his belt. Hearing the Sage complain but secretly so that only Platov heard, Platov mumbled back that it was worth another day's meal, maybe even two. The Sage with a grumble and two blinking eyes fell into Tate's hand. Holding it up curiously as Tate had always been amazed by the orb, he inadvertently posed himself exactly to Alexander's contentment. Now unable to lower his hand, Tate stood, cringed, and pretended that he did not really need to scratch some part of his body. Platov in the meantime, held out the labradorite stone and made the monumental effort to stand perfectly still despite a bee that was swarming around his head.

Alexander was making a great mess all around him. Pouring paint, throwing brushes, and splashing around smelly spirits that cleaned the brushes, he painted the scene. Then he stood back and finally relieved of the tedious duty of standing perfectly still for hours, the boys lowered their aching arms.

"You are too short!" Alexander howled. Then inspired he found a stump for Platov to stand on.

Covered in a heavy faded blue robe, Platov stood on the stump while Alexander stuffed a pointed hat onto his head. Then more props were added, mostly charms of different sorts that were arranged meticulously to hang from a rope belt.

"Do not move!" Alexander demanded when all was perfect.

The only problem was the stump was wobbly and with great effort not to fall, Platov stood as still as he could. The bee found him again and was buzzing around his head. Then Platov sneezed.

Alexander went into a tirade over the disruption, but thankfully, ordered Tate to take Platov's place. Careful not to disturb the delicately arranged charms that hung from the wizard's robe, Tate climbed up onto the stump. Platov took a well-earned break under the tree while Alexander worked tirelessly.

Hours later near dusk, they saw the painting. The two young boys the old wizard was teaching looking the spitting image of themselves while the wizard was old, gray, and wrinkled. Alexander had painted the wizard holding the labradorite stone in his hand. Platov chuckled as he was both the old wizard and the young academic in the same painting. How Alexander could do something so magical, he could only wonder.

"We shall sell it as soon as it is dry!" Alexander picked up the painting and carted it off to his studio.

Platov and Tate picked up the remainder of Alexander's mess and dragged it back. Given a coin for their troubles, they left the crazed artist for the night. Later, sitting on the village walls near a short tower, they watched as falling stars streaked through the night sky. In the far distance were the fiery tracks of dragons while in the other direction the wolves were howling.

...

Alexander was dressed rather pretentiously with a colorful woven tunic of gold and red fibers. His hat was sloped to one side with a rather long feather that draped to his side. The client, a man named Lord Tancred was a gray wizard who sat in a hard-backed chair waiting for the great masterpiece to be unveiled. Carried into the chamber by Platov and Tate, the painting was covered in a heavy canvas cloth. Alexander was making a great longwinded introduction. Impatiently, Tancred tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair. He had long gray hair, a long white beard, a wrinkled face, gray eyes, and a long wrinkled red nose.

The painting, Alexander explained, portrayed Tancred in a fine light as he imparted his wisdom onto the future generation. Befitting a wizard of his notoriety, the portrait would impart the ideas that Tancred was benevolent, wise, and respected by his contemporaries. Then without further delay, Alexander held out his hand toward the masterwork. On cue, Platov and Tate unveiled the portrait. Alexander had captured the wizard's image from memory and the portrait was a precise likeness.

Tancred stood up and walked closer. Studying the portrait carefully, his eyes took in the sight of the students. Then he glanced over Platov and Tate who had posed for that part. He showed no emotion as he took the painting in from one side and then the other. Then he moved directly in front of it for a final viewing. Alexander held his breath and looked anxiously at his helpers.

"You will be recalled as a great teacher!" Alexander stepped in to sell his painting.

"I have never taught," Tancred deflected the statement. "These boys, they are your models?"

"Yea," Alexander replied. "Platov and Tate, they are experienced. My best models! See how they hold themselves in perfect form."

"The composition I do not regret," Tancred said dismissively as he studied the painting. "Nor do I complain of the clothing that you portray the urchins. This stone, the Stone of Cuore that I hold in my hand. I have never possessed such a stone. Why have you placed it in my hand?"

"Inspiration," Alexander replied. "What is a great wizard without a great stone of power!"

"The other," Tancred pointed first at the painting, then at Tate. "He holds an orb. How do you come to be inspired by these things?"

"A great teacher needs..." Alexander started to say but then was quickly interrupted.

"The painting is a fraud!" Tancred stepped back and glared between his image and Alexander.

"I have taken a few liberties, inspired to portray you in the grandest of manners," Alexander gasped and replied quickly.

"How do you come to have the Stone of Cuore?" Tancred inquired curiously.

"Platov holds the stone," Alexander replied.

"The other, the orb, is that in the other boys' possession?" Tancred growing agitated asked. Alexander cringed as the sale was not going well.

"This boy here, he holds the Stone of Cuore?" Tancred's eyes were on Platov.

"Yes, by what means I do not know," Alexander stated.

"May I see it?" Tancred asked.

Platov retrieved the stone from his pouch and held it out in his hand. Cautiously, Tancred stepped closer but did not reach out to touch. He held his breath and then studied Platov's face curiously.

"The stone is genuine, I suspected a fraud," Tancred said and then stood back again.

Platov cringed while Tate glanced over at Alexander whose face was red with rage.

"This is strange," Tancred finally said. Then he stepped back and was examining Tate. "The one has wizard's blood, it is in his eyes, yet this one is not gifted. Yet he holds the orb?"

"The orb belongs to Platov," Tate gulped as Tancred deemed it necessary to interrogate him with his gray eyes. As if he were a horse to be purchased, Tancred was conducting his examination thoroughly.

"Then it is partially explained," Tancred said. He stepped back appearing relieved that the orb was held in the hand of a wizard. But then he was examining Platov as if he was the horse to purchase now. His eyes fell on the cloth bag tied to Platov's belt.

Platov could see how angry Alexander was becoming and he flinched as Tancred bore down on him.

"I sense this power about you," Tancred said. "This orb that you are hiding..."

"A Sage," Platov said. "That is what he calls himself, a Sage."

"A Sage..." Tancred looked perplexed. He stepped back as if now having decided his mind. Then bluntly he asked. "How do you come to have these things?"

"The Sage choses me as his friend as I rescued him from Wraith," Platov replied meekly. "The Stone of Cuore I traded a dragon for in a bargain."

"A bargain, one I am sure the dragon received the lesser for," Tancred chuckled. "You are Wraith's apprentice?"

"I escaped," Platov gulped. "Wraith hunts me as does Scorch."

"About the dragon...I mean painting," Alexander stepped forward growing impatient. "I will repaint the portrait with more worthy subjects."

"I did not say that I was not satisfied," Tancred replied swiftly and swept Alexander away as it was Platov he was most interested in. "May I see the Sage?"

Platov wondered if he should show his treasure to the wizard. Reluctantly, he untied the cloth bag from his belt and then held the egg-shaped orb up in his hands. Its eyes blinked while Tancred stared back with piqued interest.

"What is your name?" Tancred asked the orb as Platov held it out.

"I am the Sage of Cent Fois," Sage replied.

"I was suspicious," Tancred said. "A great curiosity has baffled me today. The Sage of Cent Fois, a legend. You have not been seen in over a thousand years. How is it that you were found in Wraith's possession?"

"A long tale of treachery," Sage replied.

"Yet now you are held by Platov," Tancred marveled.

"A brave champion, a daring rescue and escape," Sage replied. "I have chosen Platov, he has no fear. An honest wizard that will carry me forward into the future, I foresee a bright future for Platov. He shall not be corrupted by power and greed."

Tancred stepped back again as he sensed a repulsion from Sage. The orb was long known as unsympathetic toward wizards and as a flawed oracle of the future.

"I shall purchase your apprentice," Tancred suddenly announced after a breathless silence.

"The purchase of an apprentice will require the purchase of both, for Platov will not be parted from his friend, Tate." Sage replied swiftly, but dryly and matter-of-fact. Alexander looked startled as neither boy was his apprentice. But sensing an extra coin for his troubles, he remained demurely silent. A smirk crossed his lips beyond the sight of the gray wizard.

"Then I will take them both," Tancred agreed.

"Platov has had a bad experience with the wicked wizard Wraith. What are your intentions?" Sage was negotiating the business while Platov was looking rather doubtful about being dragged off to another wizard's cave.

"I will teach him to be a great wizard!" Tancred promised. "For already he has greatness by the things that he holds." Then bored with arguing with the Sage, he turned and faced Alexander.

"The painting shall be redone," Tancred decreed. "The Stone of Cuore belongs in Platov's hand. I shall be holding my Staff. Take it away!"

"As you wish," Alexander growled, glared angrily at Platov, and then with a clap of his hands demanded that the offending painting be recovered and removed.

"I shall be depicted as the great wizard that guided Platov! That will be my claim to fame. Bring the boys to my castle when you have completed the portrait," Tancred announced.

Platov shook his head as he had no intentions of being consigned to another wizard. But without argument, he lifted the painting and with Tate, carried it out the door. Tancred picking up his Staff strode stiffly out the door.

Storming into the studio, Alexander was in a temperamental rage. Once the painting had been placed on the easel, the artist destroyed it with a long iron poker. Angrily throwing the shards of splintered wood out the window, he turned to the boys.

"Go now!" Alexander howled. "Do not let me see your faces. You are traitors! I will demand a pretty coin for both of you too! And do not come crawling back either." A copper fell on the floor as Alexander tossed it to them for their day's effort.

"Sorry," Platov replied meekly while Tate scooped up the copper. Together they backed out the door while Alexander charged after them, slamming the door in their faces. Inside they could hear him ripping apart the piles of junk he kept.

# Chapter 8: The Masterpiece

Tancred's Castle

The great painting had grown in size as Alexander was determined to charge Tancred a hefty fee for the commission. Twice as high as Platov and four times as long, the boys struggled to bring the massive board outside so that Alexander could paint the scene. Set upon a large stand of lashed together tree limbs, the wind threatened to carry the work off. Then with brushes in each hand, Alexander painted the great tree of knowledge while the boys found something else to do. Inspired, Alexander painted the Castle of Tancred in the background with dreamy misty shades of gray. By the end of the day, the painting was a tranquil landscape with a gray castle of stone in the background. The great tree of knowledge was set perfectly on the golden mean. Platov and Tate carried the work back inside the studio, took their copper coin and hurried off.

By daybreak, Alexander was in a temperamental fit. Tancred was coming to view the commission and that was the last thing in the world that Alexander needed. The audacity of clients to personally oversee a commission of art!

In Alexander's foul mood, Platov was put through five costume changes while Tate was put through six. Dissatisfied with all of them, Alexander ripped apart his costumes looking for what he envisioned. Finally settling on long waist length tunics made of green leather, Platov pulled that over his head. Tate was adorned with a grayish blue tunic and a silver sword. Then Platov stood in the position that he had been twisted into several times already.

"The Stone of Cuore!" Alexander demanded.

Platov retrieved the stone and held it in his hand while making it glow ever so perfectly. The studio lit up with a soft undulating light.

"The Sage!" Alexander bellowed after he realized that was missing.

Tate retrieved the Sage from Platov and then they posed.

Alexander threw his brushes on the floor and stomped around. Then pushing the two around and rearranging their arms and stance as if they were made of wooden sticks, Alexander stood back. He framed the models with his hands. Then he began to paint and oddly for Alexander, quietly. Told to stand perfectly still, Tate and Platov flinched and fidgeted. A bee came in through the window and circled around them both. Alexander sneezed and grumbled. Then Tate sneezed and Alexander looked perturbed while Tate put himself back into position. The bee swarmed around Platov's head and both boys were complaining that their arms ached from being held up so long. After several hours both were exhausted, but Alexander was not about to take a rest.

"Very well then," Alexander finally allowed them to rest.

"There is nothing so hard as standing perfectly still," Tancred said jovially as he had come in the door unannounced. He studied the painting while Alexander pretended obnoxiously that the wizard was not even there.

"An artist hates to be observed while working," Tancred said as he took a seat. "Come here Platov and Tate."

Obediently, the boys approached the old wizard.

"Did you know that you have two enemies?" Tancred asked in a low voice. "One for taking the Stone of Cuore and the other for escaping with the Sage."

Platov nodded. "Wraith kept me locked inside a foul cave."

"I do not blame you," Tancred said. "But have you given any thought to what you will do with both Scorch and Wraith come looking for you?"

"I am not afraid," Platov replied.

"You are brave," Tancred said. "According to Sabian you have already once defeated Wraith. But he is not vanquished."

"Platov, don the robe and stand on the stool!" Alexander demanded. He was ignoring Tancred entirely.

Tancred chuckled and watched as Platov struggled with a long faded blue robe that was longer than he was tall. Then Platov climbed up on a stool while Alexander arranged the folds of the robe to his liking. Trinkets and charms were hung from the rope belt while a Staff was placed in Platov's hand. Sensing the Staff to be just a stick of wood with a fancy gemstone on top, Platov felt no magic in it.

"Platov do you know what the Sage truly is?" Tancred asked.

"No sir," Platov replied while trying not to move a single facial muscle as that would bring Alexander's wrath.

"Neither do I," Tancred said.

"It speaks when asked," Platov said.

Alexander was looking miffed that his client was having a conversation with his models. With a huff, he sketched out the gray wizard.

"Some believe the Sage is an oracle of the future," Tancred said. "Once thousands of years ago the orb was presented to the King of Timare. Legend has it, that the Sage made false prophecies. Did you know that?"

"Why do you ask Platov these questions as if I were not even here?" The Sage stated.

"Curiosity," Tancred said. "Take no offense."

"I am not an oracle of the future, nor am I flawed as your type have long believed," Sage said defiantly. "I do not serve greedy wizards nor do I serve power lusting men! If you are to ask me of the future, then I will show you a future that suits you. It is not my purpose, perhaps you will be the second of your kind to understand that point."

"The Sage of Cent Fois, a mystery," Tancred stroked his long beard after apologizing albeit with a tad of insincerity. "A name that I had heard, but one that I had to dig deeply into long forgotten chronicles to find any reference to. We have the Stone of Cuore and the Sage of Cent Fois. An interesting combination held in the hands of one very young wizard. Tell me, you say that I am the second to understand. Who is the first?"

"Platov," Sage replied glacially.

"After this painting is revealed, everyone will know where you are," Tancred sat back in his chair and turned his attention to Platov who was standing on the stool still holding a Staff. The Staff did not even remotely resemble Tancred's Staff, yet Alexander was painting the scene perfectly as if it did. "An amazing talent to paint from memory. I have not seen you once turn around and examine my Staff."

Alexander miffed that the client was speaking to him while he was working, turned and stared at Tancred. Then he took in the sight of the Staff and deciding upon a few changes to his painting, he dashed a slight change of color onto the upper purple colored gemstone.

"Sage, I shall take the time to understand your point-of-view," Tancred said.

Alexander glared at Platov as if it were his fault the client was talking.

"I can see that I am disturbing you," Tancred stood up. Excusing himself he strolled toward the door. "We shall keep this painting a secret, let no one else see it."

Alexander glared, but as long as he was paid, he did not care what closet Tancred decided to hang the painting in.

"Tate! Take Platov's place. He fidgets too much!" Alexander bellowed. "No more talking!"

Obediently, Platov stepped down from the stool and pulled off the heavy wizard robe. Passing it to Tate, he stepped away to sit in the shadows.

"Hold still!" Alexander demanded his mood was darkening as were the shadows around the figures in his work of art.

Tate tightened his grip on the Staff in his right hand and held his breath so as to not move a muscle. Then he fell off the stool much to Alexander's complete outrage. Apologizing, he fixed the stool and climbed back up. Enraged, Alexander stepped out from behind the painting and straightened Tate's robe so that it draped properly. Then he twisted Tate's arm so that the Staff would be more prominent.

"Stand still," Alexander bellowed angrily. "And do not fall off again!"

...

"A triumph!" Tancred praised as he studied the completed painting several days later. The massive painting depicted a benevolent wizard imparting his wisdom onto two young boys. In an unusual style, Alexander had captured the light and likeness of his subjects masterfully. Perhaps one day it would be regarded as Alexander's greatest masterpiece. Worthy of being hung in the finest of castles, the painting was still drying and the smell of oils pungent.

"Now, disguise the Sage and the Stone of Cuore so that they cannot be recognized," Tancred insisted.

"Disguise them?" Alexander flashed with perturbed aggravation. He was not accustomed to clients making demands.

"That is right," Tancred said. "Paint over the stone and Sage so that one day when the paint is removed the truth will be discovered."

"I cannot paint over them," Alexander scoffed in unbridled irritation.

"Wait until the paint is dry and then cover them in thin mysterious clouds," Tancred tactfully held his ground. "Bring the painting to my castle next week. I am expecting visitors. Your painting will be viewed by many important people, perhaps they will commission you. Deliver the boys to me and I will pay you for both and the painting at the same time. A silver for each boy, and four gold for the painting."

"Four gold?" Alexander's foul mood vanished. For a fortune of that size he would paint the entire painting in a mysterious cloud. Then he glanced at Platov as he considered receiving the silvers for apprentices that were not even his. He smirked as selling the boys to Tancred were a bit of a bonus. With a change of attitude, he pointed out how he would make the painting keep it secrets. Satisfied, Tancred left the studio.

"I do not want to be apprenticed to Tancred," Platov complained.

"You have no choice," Alexander taunted the boys. "As you are my apprentices I have the privilege of selling you when I no longer want you. Besides both of you are not even worth a copper. A silver apiece!"

"You are too kind," Platov said. "I will tell Tancred that we were not apprenticed to you. Then he will be angry."

Alexander laughed rancorously. "He will not believe you!"

Then just in spite Platov left with Tate to find some place else to spend the day.

"We could run away," Tate suggested.

"Go back to the river," Platov agreed.

"I would go with Tancred," Sage stated.

Platov shrugged as the Sage was never wrong. Besides, Alexander was a beast of master to serve.

"Three meals a day and a warm place to sleep," the Sage said. "Indulge the old wizard by letting him teach you. Maybe you might even learn a worthy trick or two. Lord Tancred is a kindly man that will benefit both of you greatly."

# Chapter 9: Important Visitors

Spiral Stairs

The next week, Platov and Tate lifted up the massive painting and loaded it onto a handcart. Following Alexander they left through the gate. Taking to a road worn in the dirt, they made their way into the forest. Tancred's Castle was not far, but it was in the middle of the creepy forest. Stumbling along, pushing the wagon, they followed the road while Alexander in a usually happy mood was whistling. Birds screeched from the trees while little creatures scattered from the roadside. Pushing the handcart along was hard and stopping to rest for a moment, Alexander glared most impatiently. Then they started pushing and pulling the handcart while preventing the painting from falling off. Finally they stumbled on a clearing in the forest. Ahead was the modest gatehouse tower of Tancred Castle. Weathered gray and covered with tenacious ivy vines, the tower rose up over the battlements of the curtain walls. Small and narrow arrow slots were cut into the tower near the top while battlements lined the roof. Giant bullfrogs called the moat home. Birds scattered off into the surrounding forest.

In recent years, no marauding army had laid siege to the ancient castle, but scars on the battlements and thick stone walls testified to more than one attempt to breach the fortress. Beyond the curtain walls was a modest gray castle with a single square tower that rose above a formidable keep. The drawbridge with rusty chains was lowered over a muddy moat while the iron gate was already lifted. Alexander growing impatient with his exhausted helpers hurried them along.

Inside, the courtyard was covered in thick grass and unkempt shrubbery. A goat was grazing on the grass while ahead up a few steps was a formidable oak door. The door like the castle had seen better days. Weathered and stained the door was the only visible entry into gray castle. High up in the tower was the only window that opened onto the courtyard. Setting the painting down on the walkway, Alexander straightened the canvas cover and then went to the door. Using an iron knocker, he alerted the castle of their arrival.

The painting was destined to a prominent place over the fireplace in Tancred's hall. Prepared to receive important visitors, the old hall had been cleaned while the finest goblets and dinnerware had been set out on a long table. Workmen were waiting and taking the heavy painting from the boys, they set about the business of mounting it to the stone wall above the hearth.

An old butler named Quintus hovered over the details as Tancred was being fitted with a new robe in another chamber. Then Quintus paid Alexander as promised. With a smirk over the fortune acquired, Alexander departed the old hall with hardly a word of good-bye. Left to stand and wonder what they should do, Platov and Tate waited nervously.

Quintus showed them into a kitchen through a heavy door to the rear of the old hall. The kitchen was not attached to the castle, but the walkway was covered by a wooden roof. Inside, a fire burned on a hearth with the smell of stew simmering in the kettle. Bread was set out on a table, while many fresh herbs, roots, fruits, and vegetables were spread all around. Quintus pointed at a table where the boys could sit. As he did not want them meddling with the preparations, he set out two bowls of stew and some bread for them. With few words, Quintus explained that their chamber was in the gatehouse tower. After they ate, they were to make themselves scarce as Tancred was expecting some very important visitors. Obediently, Platov and Tate nodded.

"This not be so bad," Tate said as he tasted the stew prepared for important visitors. The bread was risen, freshly baked, and quite different from the unleavened stone-ground bread they were accustomed to eating. Platov smiled as he tasted the soft bread smeared with churned butter. Just then a woman wearing a gray cloth dress with an apron arrived. She had her brown hair tied back into a bun while in her hands she was carrying a basket filled with herbs.

"I am Klara," she said introducing herself. "You must be Platov and Tate. Master said you would be coming today."

"I am Platov."

Tate nodded.

"Eat and then be scarce. Master he be in a mood today. Don't be seen or heard," Klara said. Then she put her basket down on the heavy worktable and laid out the herbs. Singing with hushed words, she glanced over at the boys repeatedly. Taking a big knife she was busy dicing up the herbs and pushing the cuttings into an earthen bowl.

"When ye done, ye can has strudel. I makes it with apples," Klara said.

"This is good," Tate said as he finished his bowl of stew.

"Has more," Klara nodded at the simmering pot. "The Queen, she not partake but a spoonful. All this preparations and she partake but a spoonful."

"The Queen?" Platov choked.

"Yea, she be calling upon Master," Klara said. "Eats strudel then makes yourselves vanish. Poof, neither seen nor heard. Master says it so. Ye stays outs of sight."

Tate looked at Platov and then finishing his bread he looked around the kitchen.

"Over yonder, on the cupboard," Klara said. Then drying her hands, she went to get the strudel herself. "I be dishing it out onto crystal plates, so the Queen she naught be knowing you tasted it first."

Tate looked at Platov and then shrugged.

"Master Tancred requests that you gather firewood when you have eaten," Quintus announced when he returned. With a noticeable glare he noted that the boys were indulging in strudel.

"They be hungry, looked at em', they be all skin and bones," Klara said without apology. "Master says they can eat."

Quintus disappeared through the door without comment.

Once done eating they set upon their errand of gathering firewood from the forest. A tree had fallen not far from the castle and taking a ribbon saw and axe to the broken branches, they gathered up quite a bit. Loading it onto an old cart they pulled it back to the castle and piled up the firewood outside the kitchen as told. Then far off in the distance a regal horn sounded.

"Go now!" Klara in a nervous fit whisked the boys off.

Abandoning the cart still not completely unloaded, the boys dashed across the courtyard. Finding the door to the gatehouse unlocked they carefully stepped inside. Narrow spiraling stairs led up into the tower and once the door was closed they were in near darkness. Finding a torch, Platov lit it with the help of his labradorite stone. He could still see in the dark and sniffing the air, he could tell that nothing foul was lurking in the stairwell. Then climbing they found themselves in a chamber where the rusty drawbridge chains were wound around a turnstile. Small and narrow arrow slots let a little light into the dank chamber. Overhead in the ceiling, birds had made messy nests. Along the stone walls, forgotten rusted armor and weapons hung, while just beyond the turnstile was a large cauldron for boiling oil. Narrow slots in the floor were nearby. Testing the cauldron, Tate discovered that it would pivot and pour the hot oil into troughs that led to the narrow slots in the floor. Curious of the artifacts scattered about the boys dawdled to look everything over.

Then hearing the regal horn again, both darted to peek out the narrow arrow slots. Still nobody could be seen out on the forest road, but the horn was closer. Racing up the stairs they found a small square room with a fireplace. Sparsely furnished with but a bed stuffed with straw, a table, and a chair, the room had not been used recently as a layer of dust had settled on everything. There were two arrow slots and peeking out through them they could see the approaching flag bearer.

Then an escorting army stepped out from under the trees. Behind the army was a carriage pulled by horses. Decorated with pendants, the red carriage moved slowly toward the castle. Curious, Tate and Platov raced out the door and up the stairs to the very top. From here peeking out from behind the battlements, they could watch the Queen's arrival.

Behind the Queen's carriage were four more carriages and as they watched, now they were not certain which one was the Queen's after all. The regal horn sounded again and then the flag bearers were marching through the gates. Horses and carriages followed while the escorting army took up alongside the moat.

Platov and Tate raced to the other side of the tower and peeked over the battlements. Tancred was standing at the door in a new brightly colored purple robe. Then as the carriages pulled up to the front door, he graciously stepped down the stairs. While the boys' view was blocked by the carriages, they did see the Queen being escorted into the keep on Tancred's arm. Then there were several other important looking people, all wearing long wizard's robes of different colors. The boys watched the entire procession disappear into the keep. But the adventure was not over yet, as they went to the other side and spied upon the escorting army. Standing at attention, the army had lined up in front of the moat and on both sides of the road.

"Do they stay that way?" Tate asked as he saw none of the men move. They held their spears upright in front of them while their heads were covered in dark helmets. Only one had decoration on his uniform and he was stationed right at the end of the drawbridge. Curiously they watched but as nobody moved, they quickly became bored. Then they went back to the other side of the tower and spied upon the carriages and drivers lined up along the walkway. The flag bearer was standing on one side of the front door while the horn blower was standing on the other side.

"Will she be staying all day?" Tate asked as everyone that had come with the Queen looked uncomfortable.

"I do not know. Did you see her face?" Platov asked.

"No," Tate replied. Staying down real low so that nobody would see them they waited but then nothing else happened. The visitors were all inside the windowless keep.

"Someone is coming," Sage reported. His voice sudden and but a whisper.

Platov and Tate scattered back to the door and raced down to their chamber. Footsteps were heard on the spiral staircase as at least four men were climbing the stairs. Then the door to their chamber swung open and a formidable figure bearing a sword was looking in at them. Tate cowered while Platov stared.

The man named Kyrus looked them over and then around the small chamber.

"Ye be Tancred's boys?" Kyrus asked.

"Yea," Platov nodded.

Without another word spoken the men went by their chamber on their way to the roof. Platov waited a moment wondering if the man would come back, but when he did not, Platov rushed over and closed the door. Then as an afterthought he struggled with the heavy beam that barred the door. Outside the sound of the iron gate being dropped with a clattering of rusty chains.

"We were not supposed to be seen," Tate said in a hushed whisper.

Platov shrugged. Peeking out the narrow arrow slot, Platov could see that the escorts were making camp just beyond the muddy moat.

# Chapter 10: The Proofing

Strange Glows amid the Trees

A loud knock came to the door. Platov stared at Tate wondering what to do. Then they heard a voice calling them. Platov cautiously slid back the heavy beam. Pensively, he opened the door to see Kyrus and one of Tancred's workmen named Kaspar standing on the other side.

"Klara summons you both to the kitchen," Kaspar said as he stared down at Platov. His eyes lifted and he looked over Tate just the same. He was old with baggy clothing and grizzly hands that had been put to hard work for far too long. Platov had been introduced to him in the Great Hall as Kaspar was in charge of hanging the great painting.

"We not be allowed to be seen," Platov replied anxiously. Staring at Kyrus he was intimidated by his posture and powerful glare. A sword hung from his belt and he wore the medallions of a decorated Commander of the Queen's Army.

"The Queen has retired for the evening," Kyrus stated officially.

"Go to the kitchen door, Klara is waiting for you. Leftovers from the great banquet, such a feast not often coming," Kaspar said. He seemed kindly compared to Kyrus. Turning toward Kyrus he said. "They be Tancred's new apprentices."

Kyrus nodded and then he was watching Tate who was behind Platov looking nervous and intimidated.

"Go on with you now," Kaspar said with a bit more authority. "Tomorrow we have plenty of work to put idle hands too. No sense in you going hungry. You won't be worth a day's work going hungry."

Platov nodded and then with Tate, they stepped out around Kyrus and made their way to the courtyard. The horses had been put into the stables while the carriages were lined up in a neat row near the gatehouse. Taking to the outside of the keep, they went around the tower and then onto the kitchen. As Kaspar had said, Klara was waiting on them. She looked exhausted and not nearly as cheerful as when they had met her before. Tersely sweeping them to the table she passed each a bowl of broth and a shaving of freshly roasted meat on a simple cast iron plate. Then dabbing her head with her apron, she went to cleaning up the kitchen with a broom fashioned from lengths of reeds wrapped around a long slightly bent stick.

"The Queen, she be staying until morning," Klara announced as if the Queen's presence was somehow painful to her. Given the added tasks of cooking for all the important guests, she was rather strained in her appreciation of the royal visit. Then she brought over a loaf of sliced brown bread. Risen and soft, the bread smelled aromatically like molasses. A freshly churned soft and creamy bowl of butter followed. Then she stood with her hands on her hips while staring at Tate with worried eyes.

"The Master, he wants to show you," Klara said tersely. She was looking at Tate in particular with worried eyes. "I gives you a charm..."

Tate looked up.

"Do not speak," Klara said. "I gives you a charm, make your eyes sparkle. The Queen canst know that ye naught be a wizard. Speak nothing to the Queen for she will have the men take you."

Platov glanced between Tate and Klara and then delved into the sliver of carved roasted boar covered with a thick brown gravy.

"Tomorrow, you be seen," Klara said with worry in her tired voice. "Maybe the Queen she be going then. Master just wants to show you off. He says he will be seen teaching you, that he says. I canst say no, but what if the Queen takes you? Master says not to worry..."

After dinner and another helping of strudel, the boys made their way back to the tower. Outside the gate they could hear the rumble of men telling tall tales around campfires. Climbing up to the top of the tower, the two looked out over the road. The glow of small fires lit up the forest while they could see dark figured moving around. The smell of meat roasting over flames filled their nostrils. Occasional burst of boisterous laughter broke over the muffled voices. Two men were on the roof, but neither paid any attention to the boys. Looking down on the parapets, more men were standing guard but the lot of them was only spread along the front curtain wall. Torches burned every few feet.

Klara had pressed a charm into Tate's hand just as they left the kitchen. He was clutching it tightly. In the flickering torchlight, Platov could see a strange sparkle in Tate's eyes. The charm was casting a special magic over Tate.

"I will not be seen by the Queen," Tate whispered in resignation.

"Tancred will be angry," Platov said.

Tate shrugged and looked over the encampment of men. Certain that he would become one of them, he considered what it would be like to be conscripted into the Queen's service. Her elite escorts enjoyed special privileges, but the common drafted foot soldiers were rarely allowed any consideration. Twice while he lived in Pristina, Tate had been hidden from the men who came around seeking conscripts. At only twelve years old, he was of age to be drafted.

Platov heard heavy footsteps behind him. Turning around he took in the sight of Kyrus.

"Kaspar be looking for you," Kyrus said gruffly. Then without further words he walked off to examine the other men standing guard. Harsh orders were shouted down to the parapet where two guards had moved away from their post.

Platov and Tate hurried back down the narrow spiral stairs and raced off to the stables.

"A fine feast!" Kaspar toasted them both with a tankard made of spun metal. The Queen's horses were all lined up in compartments amid the smell of freshly cut hay. Kaspar guzzled grog from his tankard and then looked over the boys with weary eyes.

"Come gets your blankets. Collect some firewood out back for the night. Tomorrow you be rising with the first sliver of dawn. Master wants you dressed and under the tree for your lessons early. Maybe you being wizards will have a notion of what he says. You make him proud!" He laughed jovially, lifted his tankard again and guzzled down more grog.

Platov looked around the stables and then saw blankets piled up on a bale of fresh hay. Gathering up the woolen blankets, they made ready to go.

"Firewood be out back," Kaspar pointed. "Master thinks he will be a great wizard teaching you both." He laughed rather mockingly.

Platov nodded and then with Tate they left the stables. Outside they nearly stumbled into two of the Queen's protectors. Called Hounskulls by the helmets they wore. The warriors were among the elite forces in the Queen's service. Carrying spears and walking slowly, the two Hounskulls glanced down at the boys while muttering several unkind words. Finding firewood behind the stables, the boys gathered up as much as they could carry on top of the blankets. Then watching the Hounskulls distrustfully, they waited until they were out of sight in the gloomy darkness.

Hurrying back across the courtyard, the boys climbed into the gatehouse tower and then slipped into their chamber without being seen. Platov barred the door while Tate used a torch to light the fireplace.

"What if we do not learn anything?" Tate asked with a head full of doubt. He carefully placed the charm on the table while Platov laid out his labradorite stone. Then Platov removed the Sage from his cloth bag. Setting the orb down next to the charm he looked at the eyes as they blinked open.

"Tate hast to be a wizard," Platov said.

"I canst make Tate a wizard," Sage replied.

"The Queen will take him," Platov worried.

The orb's eyes blinked.

Tate had climbed up on a stool and was peeking out over the campfires from the narrow open arrow slot.

...

Dawn had not broken over the smoky forest when Platov was awakened by a pounding at this door. Carefully opening the door, he peeked out to see Kaspar. Without words spoken, Platov understood that it was time to get up and sneak off to the kitchen.

The boys dressed quickly and then Tate took his charm while Platov carefully wrapped up Sage in the cloth bag. Tying the bag to his belt with a firm knot, he then dropped the labradorite stone into his pouch. Then they stole their way across the misty courtyard to the kitchen. Klara was baking fine cakes that smelled of cinnamon and herbs. Without a word she sent them to their table to await their breakfast. Klara looked worried and made it clear to Tate that he was not to speak unless spoken too. If the Queen came to the proofing then he was to kneel down and keep his head lowered. Then she checked his eyes to see that they still sparkled like those of a purebred wizard.

After eating, they went outside and waited under a twisted orchard tree. Quintus had told them to wait there for Tancred, but how long they would be waiting the butler did not say. The early hours of morning passed as they watched the horses being taken out of the stables. Allowed to wander the horses were grazing on what parts of the overgrown lawn the goats had not already nibbled upon. Then the horses were put into their harnesses and lined up in front of the carriages. Considering it a good omen that the Queen would be leaving, the boys stayed near the orchard trees ever watchful for new developments.

Then Tancred dressed regally in a vivid green robe strolled across the courtyard with several of his guests. They were wizards of that Platov was convinced as they all wore robes. The Queen was not among them.

"Do you have the charm?" Platov asked nervously as he wondered what magical tricks Tancred would expect them to perform. Tate held up his tightly clenched hand and Platov could see the sparkle in his eyes. Then just for reassurance, Platov touched the bag with the Sage hidden inside. A sense of confidence filled him from the inside.

Tancred was talking while the wizards scrutinized the apprentices. The conversation went on and Tancred appeared to have his guests intrigued by his words. Saying nothing about what Platov had or whom he had escaped from, Tancred introduced them both jovially.

"Imagine my surprise to find them in the village. Mere apprentices of an artist!" Tancred said proudly. "Apparently, they were washed down the river. I say it was not merely by chance, for without lessons, they will never realize their full potential. Naturally, I purchased them from the artist without a second thought."

"I can see a remarkable talent," one the wizards said while scrutinizing Tate.

"They are quite remarkable!" Tancred said. "Both have great courage." Then Tancred looked kindly at Tate. "Hold out your hand," he instructed but then as he knew what Tate had in his right hand, he gruffly pulled Tate's left hand up.

"Go ahead, show them what you can do," Tancred said with encouraging words. Tate flinched.

"He is shy!" A wizard chuckled and Tancred nodded.

"Very shy," Tancred said. But then just as Tancred's attention was turned to entertaining his esteemed guests a lightning ball appeared over Tate's left hand. Tate flinched while Platov stood at his side. He too was startled. Tate held his breath while Tancred smiled proudly. The wizards applauded and then the attention was turned to Platov. Tate was doing his best not to show his terror, but he had seen Platov conjure such a trick and he only believed that Platov had put the lightning ball into his hands.

"Platov will be my protégé, for as you see Tate has already mastered simple lightning balls, Platov has a far greater potential. Notice his eyes," Tancred said sweeping the wizards away from Tate.

As if the wizards were purchasing Platov, they all examined Platov's eyes. The feeling of being scrutinized coldly made Platov flinch and tremble.

"The talent of this young man," Tancred went on boasting. "I am still investigating his bloodlines."

Several wizards spoke in agreement.

Then Tancred stepped back. "Sabian has spoken of a remarkable feat that he witnessed Platov undertake. Stand back! Let the boy show you what he can do. I am sure when you see this you will agree that Platov is our most promising upstart." He looked at Platov expectantly.

Platov did not know what Tancred wanted, but then seeing the lightning ball still hovering over his terrified best friend, he conjured one of his own. Thinking about it without actually holding the Stone of Cuore in his hand, Platov wondered if the trick would work. Terrified of failure, he just made it happen. A large and growing ball filled with mysterious lightning swirled above his hand. Then packing it down as he often did just for fun Platov made it increasingly smaller and more powerful. The hair on his head stood up straight while the powerful force was pulling the wizard's robes. The wizards with big eyes stepped back further and in awe watched as Platov launched the powerful lightning ball into the air. Floating up slowly the ball rose above the orchard and then high into the sky. Tancred was looking on expectantly and with a wishful thought, Platov made the lightning ball explode. The ground shook with thunder as the skies overhead lit up. Just like the lightning ball that had driven Wraith from the Village of Pristina, the blast spread out over the forest with a growing thunder. The wizards at first dumbfounded stared at the sight and then applauded. Tancred looked on proudly and much to Tate's relief, his lightning ball had been pulled away by the power of Platov's.

"We will not have lessons today," Tancred said dismissively after basking in his moment of glory. "You may help Kaspar with his chores." Then holding out his arm, Tancred led the tour of impressed wizards back to the keep.

"Did you put the lightning ball in my hand?" Tate whispered.

"No," Platov replied. "It was not Sage either."

The boys dawdled for a moment and then seeing Kaspar standing at the doorway of the stables, they went off to see what he wanted for the day. Later, peeking out from the stables, they watched as the Queen boarded her carriage. With much commotion, the carriages all left through the gatehouse.

"Aye, she is gone," Kaspar said with relief. "We can breath easy now. Some lightning ball Tate, you not being a wizard. Mighty impressive, Platov, but then the way Tancred be talking I'd been expected such a trick. Don't be going about making your lightning balls, I don't needs to be fixing the things you break!"

# Chapter 11: Wraith's Return

The Dragon Battle

Having delivered a bundle of firewood to the castle and finishing their other chores, the boys lowered the massive iron gate. Accomplished by a crank that wound a heavy rusted chain around a spool, the gate went down with much less effort than it went up. The bridge was rarely closed anymore and Kaspar doubted that the boys would have the strength to work the turnstile anyhow. Once the gate was closed, the boys climbed the spiral staircase up to their chamber. Curious of the starlit sky, they went up onto the roof to gaze out over the forest.

With the Queen and her escort gone peacefulness had returned to Tancred's Castle. Bird screeching, wolves howling, bullfrogs croaking, all among a choir of crickets filled the night air with strange noises. A slither glowing faintly purple lifted up from the muddy moat, snarled, and then evaporated into the wind leaving only its smell of foul swamp gas behind. The laughter of birds filled the air and then at once both boys witnessed the glows.

Flittering among the trees, faint but colorful glows swirled about. Not driven by wind or natural force, the glows were red, orange, and a few yellow or green. Laughing voices filled the air as the colorful glows moved as if performing a dance of celebration. More glows were coming, dashing among the leaves and swirling around the tallest of trees. A greater glow than all others landed on the bough of a tall evergreen. Gathering together, the glows swirled around a greater twinkling bright orange light.

"What are they?" Tate whispered as they hid behind the battlements watching the growing celebration of twinkling, flittering glows.

"I canst say," Platov replied. Both peered out between the stone battlements hopeful that the magical glows would come closer and reveal their true identities. Then at once the shrill sound of a bird and bone chilling snarl of a nearby wolf sent the glows scattering off in all directions. Platov could see the glows hiding behind the leaves of distant trees. Throbbing with an inner life, the glows crowded into the upper story of the forest. Another snarl from the wolf and the boys sensing danger dashed off the roof.

Peering once again out the narrow slots in their chamber they watched as a dark figure moving through the forest. Then the eyes and teeth of the wolf flared as the beast turned back and stared up at them. The wolf growled again and then with a snarl the dark shape disappeared into the thickets. Platov jumped away from the narrow slot while Tate fell off the stool he was standing on.

"We have arrows," Tate said bravely. The arrows were hanging on the wall in a quiver next to an old bow. Pulling the arrows out, he found them all twisted and warped beyond value while the bowstring was also beyond any use.

"The door is barred," Platov said after pulling the massive oak beam across the door. Locking it into the notches cut into the stonework, he pulled on the door handle just to make certain. Then he opened the flap and stared out into the darkness of the stairwell.

Twinkling glows were passing by the arrow slots, hovering for a moment and then disappearing. One boldly glowed brightly red and hovered for a long moment just inside the edge of the opening, and then it too was gone.

"What are they?" Platov asked the Sage.

"Oorts, they are of the forest," Sage replied. Platov examined the orb in the torchlight watching its eyes drooping.

"The wolf," Tate said as he heard the distant snarl. Several more wolves answered the call.

...

Approaching midnight, the fire on the hearth crackled and then suddenly the blaze filled the darkened chamber with flickering light. Platov stirred and stared at the fire. Aware of a presence, Platov sat up and searched around the chamber for the shadow that haunted him.

"The wolf has betrayed you," a barely heard voice spoke.

Platov bolted from the soft straw bed looking for the voice. A figure stood in the deep recess of the open arrow slot. Wearing a green tunic the figure was very small with a faintly green glow. With a bow and quiver of arrows, Platov knew it was a wood elf.

"Hurry, Wraith is coming," the elf spoke again. "The wolf was his agent."

Platov gathered up his labradorite stone and then picked up the Sage.

"My advice is to wait for him on the roof," Sage said.

"What is going on?" Tate stirred by the sound of voices sat up and stared blankly.

"Wraith is coming," Platov reported.

"To the roof!" Sage commanded. "Fearlessly we shall strike hard and fast."

Platov gathered up his shirt and pulled it over his head. Then tying up his shoes with straps that wound up his ankles, he picked up the labradorite stone and the Sage. Peeking through the door flap, he heard whispering voices and could see a swirl of Oorts whipping up the spiraling staircase. Platov slid back the heavy beam and then carefully cracked open the door. Creeping out into the darkness with a strange sense that all was about to go terribly wrong, he headed up the stairs. Tate with his shoes only half-laced tumbled out the door with the bow and quiver of useless arrows.

Platov pushed open the roof door. A gust of wind with a wicked howl smacked him in the face. Creeping out onto the roof, they slipped down behind the battlements and watched over the darkened forest. Swirling multicolored Oorts flittered among the high branches. Gathering, their numbers were growing and Platov could sense a strange growing tension spreading out in rhythmic waves. Like a drumbeat, but silent, the glows were calling themselves to join Platov in his battle. Then at once, the silence of the nighttime forest was broken by the snapping of a twig. Platov gripped his labradorite stone willing it to prepare. Glowing and throbbing, the inner life of the stone was gathering its powers. The silent drumbeat of the glows broke over the forest and then Wraith could no longer hide as the glows revealed his presence in a flash of blinding golden light. Two slithers reared up from the muddy moat and snarled. Hovering along the curtain wall, the slithers were staying to witness the battle.

Just beyond the moat, Wraith's ghostly figure was draped in a long black robe that flowed with the wicked wind. He held a Staff that culminated in a wicked red stone held in the coils of a serpent. The Staff once held by the wicked sorceress Madam Maxius was pure evil and already more than once, Platov had felt its poisonous bite. Wraith wickedly laughed at the preposterousness of Platov daring to hold him off from the top of the gatehouse tower. Heckling Platov mockingly and offering to not be so harsh if Platov came down from the tower willingly. Then he stepped closer. Another foul swamp gas filled slither rose out of the moat casting a purplish light over the forest. It snarled at Platov and then with a popping sound, the slither faded back into the moat.

Platov could see the Oorts all gathering in a circle. The strange vibration of drums sounding felt but not heard as the air throbbed. More sparkling glows were coming. Platov glanced around the rooftop to see that he was not alone as a growing host of wood elves had arrived. Taking up behind the battlements, the elves were pointing their arrows down at Wraith. Tate held the Sage tightly while Platov peered between the battlements.

"I know ye be cowering up there," Wraith called. "Such a thrashing shall be granted if I hast to come after you!"

"I am not coming down!" Platov howled defiantly.

"Then you be giving me no choice!" Wraith bellowed venomously. A wicked force was gathering around the red stone of his wicked Serpent Staff. Swirling, gathering, and snarling, a vicious apparition taking the form of a red dragon grew from the Staff.

Gaining the allegiance and encouragement of a wood elf at his side, Platov willed the labradorite stone to protect him. A shimmering dragon, amber and green erupted from the stone. Breathing fire, Platov's amber dragon flew over the battlements punctuated by the drumbeats of the Oorts in alliance. Just over the moat, the two mysterious forces met. The air filled with fire and then circling around, Platov's amber-green dragon descended on Wraith unleashing a furious golden fire. Wraith was not defeated, instead he laughed sinisterly at Platov.

"Ye hast a mighty stone!" Wraith mocked. "But ye lack skill and courage!"

The eyes of the Sage blinked and caught the moonlight. A wood elf was near Tate and then the silent sensation of drums filled the air all around. Storms were brewing just beyond the forest. Lightning filling the night skies in violent flashes sounding in unison thunderous rumbles. Platov gripped his stone and peered out through the battlements. Wood elf arrows flew through the sky with the twang of bowstrings snapping. A slither creeping up the side of the walls suddenly exploded with a popping sound, its purple mist of foul swamp gas swept into the forest amid hysterical laughter.

"Scorch be wanting his stone back," Wraith taunted. "Ye be tricking dragons. The Stone of Cuore gives no protection from Scorch. Who will save you from the devouring you justly deserve?"

Platov gulped and held his ground. Lightning flashed through the sky, striking down on the parapets. Thunder shook the tower but then the drumbeats were more powerful. The storm pushed away from Tancred's castle as it hovered over the forest.

"Come down now!" Wraith called pretending to be kindly. "Ye shall not be punished!"

"No!" Platov called back.

Outraged, Wraith again tapped his Staff on the ground. The tower shook in a blast of thunder. Then the wicked red dragon was snarling over Platov. Fire blasted from its gaping mouth, but as quickly, Platov's dragon struck back. With its armored tail sweeping through the sky, Platov's amber-green dragon struck down the wicked red dragon with a vengeance. A conjured wind from the Oorts whipped down on Wraith. Knocked to the ground Wraith growled angrily. Then Platov heard the snarl of a wicked wolf. Poised and prepared to pounce across the tower roof, the wolf snarled and bared its teeth. Arrows from a dozen wood elves lashed out at the wolf and in a puff of wind, the apparition vanished. Wraith defeated escaped into the forest amid a hail of elf arrows. A long line of Oorts trailed after him driving Wraith off with a fearsome storm of wind, lightning, thunder, and powerful drumbeats.

"A revenge upon you!" Wraith cursed, his voice carried against the wind but loudly heard.

"Wraith is gone," the elf who had come to warn Platov said as he appeared on the battlements. "But ye be facing the dragon. Your magic will not be driving Scorch away."

"I still have two enemies," Platov said regretfully. He peered over the battlements watching the swirling glows moving amid the silent sensation of victoriously pounding drums. A cool wind blew over the tower bringing with it a spattering of rain. Off in the distance a screech owl broke the eerie silence. Then the Oorts were returning, swooping past the tower and disappearing into a midnight mist rising up from the forest floor.

"Wraith cannot prevail over the Stone of Cuore," Sage said, still gripped tightly in Tate's hand.

Without another word, Tate and Platov stumbled down the darkened steps and returned to their chamber. Barricading the door with the heavy oak beam they sat on the end of the bed and stared at the fire.

"Will Wraith return?" Tate asked. He had put the Sage on the heavy table. Glancing over he watched as the orb's eyes drooped.

"Not tonight," Sage replied sleepily.

Platov fiddled with his labradorite stone in his hand and then set it on the table next to the Sage.

"If Scorch comes, he will devour you," Tate said nervously.

"If I give him back the stone, then Wraith will steal me away," Platov replied anxiously.

"Worse when he finds out that I am with you," Sage stated, yawned, and closed his eyes.

# Chapter 12: A Great Quest

A Letter Arrives

Tancred raised a bushy eyebrow when Platov and Tate told of the vanquishing of Wraith right outside the walls of the castle. Fidgeting with his tea cup he looked between the both of them with his gray eyes. With softness in his voice he finally spoke.

"There is only one was to appease a dragon," Tancred lectured. "As you cannot relinquish the Stone of Cuore to Scorch, you must offer him something of far greater value."

"What can I give Scorch?" Platov asked.

"You will have to search until finding something of great value," Tancred said. "A dragon never forgets. He may not come for you for years to come, but rest assured, one day he will come. As for Wraith, his anger boils over as you dared thwart him with the Stone of Cuore. Your talents tantalize him with greed. He conspires with revenge. You must always be on your guard for his reach is long."

...

Tancred was preparing to depart on business. Leaving the care of his estate in the hands of his able servants, Platov and Tate were allowed to explore the castle. Upon entry through the main door, a deep tunnel of stone led to a second sturdy door. Once through the second door reinforced with heavy iron straps, a staircase led to the great hall. A massive hall filled the entirety of the second floor. The painting with Platov and Tate under the wing of Tancred filled the space over the fireplace. Ancient black iron candle stands illuminated the gloom of the massive hall. Leather chairs and heavy blackened oak tables sat near the fireplace on a thick, ornately woven carpet. Symbols only important to a wizard decorated the carpet while the walls were covered in thick tapestries colored in shades of red, emerald green, and royal blue.

Beyond the sitting area was a massive oak beam dining table that filled up one end of the massive hall. The table was surrounded by heavy oak chairs upholstered with red wool seats. For the time being the table would remain unused. Quintus had set out a centerpiece of dried flowers in the center of the table, but still without purpose the table appeared severe.

A staircase led to the third floor and that was where the Queen had stayed in a grand suite of chambers. More chambers were to either side of a corridor with a thick red carpet runner covering the floor. Ancestral portraits covered the severe stone walls while another set of stairs led up to the fourth floor. Tancred's chamber was on that floor as that was the only place were glazed windows let in any light into the dark castle. Thick draperies were drawn back over the deep window alcoves.

Along the side of the keep was the single tower with additional chambers built on each level. Climbing high up to the roof, that tower looked over the curtain walls into the forest beyond. The light through tiny glass panes was a novelty as the upper chamber had opening windows. Charged with the chore of cleaning out the hearths, Platov and Tate got to see nearly every chamber in the old dark castle. Only Tancred's private office and sleeping room remained unvisited.

There was no end of the chores that required Platov and Tate's attention, but in return, Klara fed them well. Treated with fresh bread, shavings of salted and smoked meats, fresh herbs, fruits sometimes pureed, and occasionally even desserts of cakes or puddings. With winter coming on, firewood needed gathering and storing in the woodhouse. Trips into the forest with a donkey cart were frequent as daily they gathered up fallen branches and piled them onto the cart. In a heaping pile outside the woodhouse the wood was stacked haphazardly. Soon the work of cutting, splitting and piling the firewood up neatly in the woodhouse would begin.

One night, while sitting on the roof watching the swirling Oorts and twinkling stars, the sight of shooting stars crossed the heavens.

"A moonstone," Platov said thoughtfully. "Sabian said there is no greater magic than a moonstone. I could find one and give it to Scorch, and then he would no longer be my enemy."

"Where do we find a moonstone?" Tate asked.

"I do not know," Platov said. Then dismissing the notion as he only had seen one and that was in Pristina. Sabian had taken the moonstone so that Wraith would not be able to capture it. He thought about how it glowed with fire and wondered what powers it possessed. Then watching as another shooting star crossed through the night sky, he tried to imagine the distance when the meteorite would finally crash to the earth.

"A quest to find a moonstone," Tate said. "We should cross the land in search of just such a thing."

"An adventure," Platov sighed wishfully.

"Maybe you could repay Scorch with gold," Tate said as that sounded more practical.

"A fortune in gold is as elusive as a moonstone falling from the sky into our very hands," Sage who was usually quiet laughed rancorously.

"How do we find a moonstone?" Platov asked still not abandoning that notion.

"Perhaps you should look in the forest," Sage said. "They are not moonstones in the first place, but meteorites that have nothing to do with the moon. A meteorite shower rained down all around us. Sabian only rescued one, there may have been others."

"Do they always glow red?" Tate asked.

"Only until they have cooled," Sage replied. "Then they look like ordinary stones crusted in a gray shell. Inside, under the shell is a shiny metal like silver with dark veins."

"Huh," Platov sighed as he imagined all the gray stones in the world that might be a meteorite.

"We will look," Tate announced. "Tomorrow when we gather firewood."

"Find one and polish it to reveal the true stone," Sage said. "A great magic inside that any dragon would desire. Far more valuable than mere gold, perhaps even more valuable than the Stone of Cuore."

"A quest to find a moonstone," Tate said dreamily.

"Tomorrow," Platov agreed. "Then Scorch will be satisfied."

The silent sensation of cymbals striking punctuated the great plan as the glows swirled around just beyond the tower. Twinkling and moving in all directions, the Oorts of many different colors danced away into the forest.

The quest soon fell from their imagination after days of searching through the forest for one magical moonstone. Every gray stone found turned out to be just a stone and nothing valuable at all. Cracking open one stone after another, all they had to show for their efforts was just a pile of broken stones. But the heap of firewood had grown beyond even Kaspar's expectations and soon the excursions into the forest were ended. Now began the work of cutting the firewood to length, splitting, and stacking it up neatly in the woodhouse. The idyllic days of wandering through the forest but just a fanciful memory as the work of stocking the woodshed were hard and tedious. Platov was beginning to think of another way to appease Scorch.

...

The firewood had finally been stored up to the rafters of the woodshed. On a crisp early autumn morning under a colorful canopy of turning leaves, Klara gave them baskets after breakfast. The boys went to the orchard and plucked all the apples and pears off the twisted ancient trees. Filling up baskets with fruit, they lugged them into a dark root cellar where they would stay cool for the winter. The garden needed a final harvesting too and days were spent finding every root, herb, and vegetable under every leaf. Leaving the spoilage for the birds and mice, the root cellar was now filled with a fine harvest. Then the heavy door was closed and the narrow sliver under the door was packed with dirt to keep the rodents away.

Ever shortening crisp autumn days were passing and still Tancred had not returned from his journey. Frost covered the courtyard grasses one morning and the boys found the duck pond glazed over with a thin layer of ice. Klara worried of Tancred and examined tea leaves floating in a cup of boiling water.

To keep busy, Kaspar accompanied them on a short trip to the village where Alexander lived. With the plan of purchasing hay to put in for the winter, they brought the donkey cart along to carry the load. The forest was ablaze in the final days of color while squirrels were racing madly from tree to tree gathering nuts. In gusts of wind, leaves swirled through the air blanketing the forest floor in a thick layer of fading colors.

The village looked just as it did the last time they laid eyes on it with gray walls that stood on top of a mound of earth. Turrets covered in red roofs dotted the walls while the pastureland around the village was bathed in golden grains. Fires were burning where the pastures had been cut, scorching the grasslands back to the ground for the next year's growth. Hay bales, rolled up and tied speckled the land.

A visit with Alexander did not seem out of order so as Kaspar went about his business, the boys went calling on the great artist. As could be expected, Alexander was immersed in his latest masterpiece. Holding his brush he looked over the two visitors.

"Tancred is away," Platov said. "But he spoke of your painting. It was admired by the Queen."

"The Queen?" Alexander glared doubtfully.

"Yea, she visited," Platov said.

"And what did she say?" Alexander asked with piqued interest.

"I do not know," Platov shrugged.

"We were not allowed to be seen," Tate said.

"I canst imagine why," Alexander scoffed. "The Queen would not take kindly to urchins within her sight. And what has the great Lord Tancred taught you?"

"Not very much," Platov replied while Tate smirked.

"Just as I imagined," Alexander said. "Tancred has already lost interest in the likes of you. Well don't come crawling back to me."

Platov smirked as that was surely one change of circumstances that was not likely to ever happen. Even though they were being worked to death, they had a nice chamber and Klara always fed them well.

"Tancred is good to us," Tate said, perhaps only to rub in the point of the wizard being a far better master to serve.

Alexander roared with laughter and returned to his painting of a woman dressed severely with a lace shawl draped over her head.

The visit was short and had been hospitable. Alexander was gloating having had his head puffed up because his painting was approved by the Queen. The boys, bidding farewell, went off to find Kaspar and make their way back to the castle. The old donkey pulling the wagon loaded with hay took his time in making his way down the road. Nearing dusk by the time they finally made it into the gate, they parked the wagon near the stables for the night.

"This comes for you," Klara pointed at a message tied up in a neat scroll with a blood red ribbon.

"It is wicked." She said. Then she held a charm over the scroll and squeezing the charm in the palm of her hand, a green drop of thin liquid fell upon the message bathing it in a pale glow briefly. Then with a hiss, the ribbon untied itself and the scroll rolled out across the table. Written with neat handwriting, the letter was signed at the bottom with a flourish of black ink.

"What does it say?" Platov looked over the symbols and then examined the wicked face that was imprinted in the upper right corner. With sneering eyes, there was no mistaking who had sent the message. Platov untied the bag with the Sage then he moved the orb over the letter.

"It says that you are to turn over the Stone of Cuore and Sage of Cent Fois, which is me of course. Wraith has discovered that you have taken me from the cave and he is furious." Sage said as he read over the letter. Then with magic that Platov did not conjure, the scroll vanished into a cloud of smoke. Klara opened the door and whisked the evil ashes out of her kitchen with a nasty remark.

"I am not turning anything over to Wraith," Platov said as he watched the smoke disappear.

"I would not believe that you would have any intention," Sage said. "No matter, Wraith says that he is gathering his forces. You must comply with his demands within a fortnight."

"A siege," Kaspar sighed. "Best we close the bridge and polish up our armor. A swift rain would replenish the moat nicely."

Klara looked angry, but she agreed with Platov in his resolve.

"I wish that Tancred were here," Klara said. "Sit now and eat. I will send word to the master."

# Chapter 13: The Castle Prepares

Donkey Cart

Dark clouds clung to the western horizon covering the distant mountains. Having made another journey with the donkey cart to the village, Kaspar had purchased a quantity of freshly butchered meats and many bags of flour. Platov waited after loading the cart while Kaspar went off to purchase a few more items for the long winter ahead. Once he returned more barrels were loaded onto the cart while Ewald, the donkey brayed in protest. With Kaspar tugging on the donkey's leads they ambled down the rutted road toward the dark forest. Already a cold wind was blowing, but Kaspar was confident that they had enough provisions for the oncoming season if not the siege that Wraith had promised.

There had been no sign of Tancred yet. Klara had sent him a message via a pigeon some days earlier. Nor had there been any indication that Wraith intended to carry out his threat. The calmness just before the first storms of winter was about to end. Kaspar was of the mind to wait and see what really happened. Should the wizard of the house not return in time then Kaspar had a few tricks up his sleeve to fix the old ghost real nicely if he decided to show up. As for Platov surrendering the Stone of Cuore and the Sage to Wraith, Kaspar merely chuckled over that preposterous notion.

Platov had been watching and listening to Kaspar and Klara. While Platov had no idea of just what the two had planned should Wraith arrive, he felt a strange confidence. Twice already, the Stone of Cuore perhaps under the control of the Sage had vanquished Wraith. A third attempt on Wraith's behalf appeared foolhardy. Perhaps the old ghost of a wizard was just thickheaded. Kaspar had said just that word when describing Wraith.

The walk through the dark forest with the wind picking up and the very last of the autumn leaves tumbling from the trees was uneventful. Birds were screeching, but that was nothing unusual. The donkey was stubborn and brayed repeatedly as the cart was heavily loaded with provisions. Kaspar was talking about taking the fresh meat right to the smokehouse as soon as they returned. Dark clouds were closing in on them while a few stray snow flurries rushed past them in the bitter wind.

"Come along old Ewald," Kaspar tugged on the stubborn donkey's leads. "We best be getting before the storm breaks." Then with a chuckle he looked over Tate. "Old Ewald, he does not take kindly to being wet. He be sitting down in the middle of the road braying like the stubborn old mule he is."

A gust of wind sent leaves swirling around followed by a splattering of icy cold rain. Platov glanced off to the side of the rutted road and noticed an elf. In a blink of an eye the brown clad wood elf vanished but appeared further along the road. Then as Platov watched carefully as wood elves can be very fast, he noticed that there were quite a few of them peeking out from behind boulders, trees, and bramble. The deeper into the forest they walked the more Platov became aware of just how many elves there were. Fleeting and often hidden behind the trunks of trees, the elves were nearly everywhere. As quickly as Platov saw them, they would vanish only to reappear elsewhere. He pointed them out to Tate.

"They be watching out for Wraith," Kaspar chuckled. "Wood elves don't take kindly to sinister types. Tancred has always been their friend. He owns all these woods and lets the elves go about their business. Better to stay on the elves good side! They can be quite a menace otherwise. Mischief is their middle name. Come along Ewald, let's get on home before the storm breaks."

Ewald brayed but followed Kaspar at his own steady pace. Breaking out of the thick forest, the gatehouse tower of the castle loomed ahead. Gray and covered in tenacious vines that had turned brilliant red, the dark tower rose up over the parapets of the curtain walls. Behind them the wind of the oncoming storm rustled through the trees. With renewed effort, Kaspar tugged on Ewald's leads determined to have him in the stables before the rain began to fall.

"After me and old Ewald get inside, you both go and raise the bridge," Kaspar said. "I be taking old Ewald to the stables. Then come to the smokehouse, we got plenty of work to be doing."

The Turnstile raises the Bridge

Running ahead the boys clamored up the spiraling stairs of the gatehouse tower. Soon Kaspar hollered to them that all was clear and they began dropping the iron gate. With the clattering of chains and resounding crash it was set in place. Unsure of themselves, they looked over the turnstile that raised the drawbridge. Kaspar had showed them how to pull the iron pin that held the turnstile firm. But upon doing that, they would have to put their backs to the work. With each turn, the pin had to be pulled and then replaced back into its hole. Otherwise the bridge would crash down hard if they let go of the turnstile. Not having done this task before, Tate and Platov again looked over the turnstile. Tate pulled the pin, and then they put their backs against the bars. With a great grinding and creaking sound the bridge broke loose from the mud and rose but a foot or two. Tate struggled to get the holes lined up while Platov held his weight against the bar. Then once pinned again, Tate and Platov caught their breath while they grinned at each other. Now they felt ready to turn the turnstile one more revolution. Platov struggled with the pin while Tate trembled as he held back the weight of the bridge. The effort was monumental as they soon turned it into a game for each revolution of the turnstile. They fought for each success as they continued to raise the bridge up a few more feet at a time. By the time the bridge was snuggled against the tower, both boys fell back in complete exhaustion. Outside, the storm had come and a heavy cold sleet was tumbling from the sky. The boys slipped on the icy sleet balls as they dragged themselves across the courtyard to the smokehouse. Outside the wagon was by the door.

"The moat be filled," Kaspar chuckled. "We be seeing what Wraith intends to do about that."

...

Throughout the night the storm raged with high winds and the sleet changed to buckets of rain. The wind howled through the narrow arrow slots driving rain that splattered on the floor of their tower chamber. Covered under heavy blankets, they tried to sleep, but the anticipation that Wraith would appear kept Platov nervously vigilant. More than once, he saw a small elf on the ledge of the narrow slot. Frequently, Platov slipped out of bed to peek out the narrow slot. All was black outside while the sound of the howling wind and rain was fierce.

By morning, the forest was covered in a thick fog. The wind and the rain were gone and now replaced with a drizzly mist. Just as Kaspar predicted, the moat was filled with water that flooded out into the forest and even over the road. In the thick fog, Platov saw faint wispy figures floating in the air over the flood waters. Pointing them out to Tate they watched as the indistinct figures swirled over the newly created swamp. With no sun to break through the dense fog, the day remained dreary. But to keep busy they were put to work in the smokehouse. A hot fire was built and then covered with green firewood that sizzled in the heat. A great cloud of smoke filled the house. Pouring out from under the eaves, the wood smoke clung to the castle and grounds thickly. Frequently, more green firewood had to be brought in and placed on the smoldering embers. Kaspar said it would take days to smoke the meat thoroughly. He promised them the wait would be worth it, what a flavor they would be treated with!

Still the foggy day dragged on with no sign of Tancred or of Wraith. Elves were about, some having taking up on the curtain walls while others were spotted in the orchard and near the stables. The elves rarely came close and darted away quickly when they were spotted. Ominously a new muffled sound filled the air, that of wings beating, but certainly not those of any ordinary bird. The boys rushed to the kitchen window. Peering into the thick fog that shrouded the grounds with a thick gray blanket, the boys searched for the source of the sound. A massive and dark figure suddenly broke through the fog and could be seen as it circled the castle. Fire from its snout attested to what the visitor was. Platov and Tate dashed to the kitchen door fearful that Scorch had arrived. But then they stopped to watch as the dragon landed on the single tower over the keep. With a blast of fire the dragon settled on its perch proudly. Then a gray figure stepped out of the fog at the base of the tower. Platov and Tate stared at the approaching stranger. Dressed in a faded silver-gray robe with a pointed hat, the figure carried a silver Staff.

Almost at once a host of wizards began arriving out of the fog banks. Tancred was among them, he had finally returned to protect his castle. With a great deal of boasting around the massive hall, few thought that Wraith would be much of a concern. The castle was well-armed with not only a dragon, but a dozen wizards, and an army of elves. The general notion was to taunt Wraith into making the first move. Pressed into service helping Quintus serve the visitors, Platov was the subject of much interest. He was the prize that Wraith was after along with the Sage and Stone of Cuore. With much boasting and posturing, the wizards were making plans and even considering going so far as to roust Wraith out of his cave in a bold preemptive strike. The wicked wizard was not much respected by any of Tancred's companions. Then the wizards began telling the boys many tall tales of the great campaigns, each account far more remarkable than the previous tale. Lasting well into the evening, the men and the boys sat around the fireplace.

Platov and Tate finally exhausted retired to their chamber. Hardly locked inside the gatehouse chamber, they heard something landing on the roof. A great blast of fire lit up the darkness as the dragon settled in for the night. Of little comfort to either Tate or Platov, the dragon decided to call the gatehouse tower roof its perch. Throughout the night as the dragon slept with its snout over the battlements, the air outside the narrow slots lit up with fire and smelled foul of sulfur. The dragon snored too!

# Chapter 14: The Agents of Wraith

The Wizards' Arrival

Wizardry lessons began in the morning. As Tancred had been away for a long time, he felt it necessary to press on with the business of educating his young apprentices. Tate was just there for support as most of the effort fell on Platov. The audience of visiting wizards was fully expecting some remarkable show of abilities on behalf of Platov. Nervously, he practiced a few simple incantations under Tancred's watchful direction. But while Tancred and his host boasted and laughed over Wraith's ambitions, new developments were taking place.

Wraith had no intention of taking a direct assault on Tancred Castle or Platov and the Stone of Cuore. Wraith had taken a different tactic. Fanning out with his army of dwarfs, Wraith's influence had spread out over the distant mountains effectively dividing the Kingdom into two. Tancred secretly had sent out many birds to spy upon the enemy. With anonymous cackles, the birds were returning and the new developments were revealed. Hastily, maps were rolled out while wizards examined the situation in detail.

That night wolves came to the forest on Wraith's command. Surrounding the ancient walls, they laid siege to the castle with snarling teeth and flaring eyes. The Oorts stayed up in the trees while the elves taunted the wolves from lofty positions. Among the wolves, Platov witnessed one with red burning eyes. Sage informed Platov that the red-eyed demon was actually Vladislav, the Wolf King himself. With no means of crossing the still flooded moat, the wolves nervously prowled around amid the trees with threatening snarls. Platov watched from the narrow slot of his chamber while Agdar, the dragon on the roof snorted fire and spent his time mostly sleeping, unimpressed by the wolves.

...

Inside the hall the following night, Tancred had Platov lay out the great Stone of Cuore. The Sage with droopy eyes could predict no clear outcome for the brewing battle. Then with a wave of his hand, Tancred brought the full powers inside the stone to life. The barrel vault ceiling of the hall was amazingly covered with shadow figures, some moving, and others perfectly stationary. Understanding the vision, Tancred pointed out different aspects to his wizards. A line had been drawn through the middle of the Kingdom. Wraith had captured the high Dragon Mountains separating the east from the west. The Queen and her forces were on the west side of the mountains, while Tancred and his wizards were to the east. Wraith had completed his takeover with the alliance of hundreds of dwarfs all recruited with the promise of riches to be mined from the newly acquired territory.

An argument broke out as the wizards could not decide the best way to drive back the enemy. A direct assault with Wraith having all the advantages seemed futile. Another campaign was suggested of marching up the very spine of the mountains from the south. But Wraith had already considered that weakness and the southern trail was well-guarded. Throughout the night the arguments continued back and forth. Platov and Tate were sent back to their chamber. Tomorrow they would be moving against Wraith with the Stone of Cuore being their greatest weapon. Nervous, yet excited, the boys locked themselves in their chamber while trying to ignore the snarling wolves just beyond the moat.

By dawn, even more wolves had come to the siege surrounding Tancred Castle in droves. In reality they were of little threat as the walls of the castle were thick and the heavy drawbridge was pulled up tightly. The wood elves had taken to the parapets and up into the trees. Amid a great deal of trickery, the elves were taunting the wolves.

A hearty breakfast was served to all, and the wizards were all in a boisterous mood. No one seemed concerned how to get past the wolves. After eating, the wizards all arrived at the center of the courtyard. With flourishes from all, a dazzling array of old colorful carpets rolled out onto the courtyard. Climbing aboard the nearest flying carpet, a tall wizard named Hawken sat down. He instructed Platov and Tate to sit down in front of him. Then with a great rustling of wind the carpet swooped into the sky. Circling around the castle twice while the other carpets took flight, Platov looked down over the wolves and grinned.

Then without a moment to spare the flotilla took to the sky soaring over the forest, Alexander's village, and beyond. Aiming for the distant snow-covered mountains, the carpets flew at an exhilarating pace. Banking and heading north following the spine of the rugged Dragon Mountains, they went on for some distance. Then a mighty square tower was in sight. Tall, foreboding, and surrounded by high curtain walls. Torches burned on the battlements and on the many hoardings that hung from the sides. The carpets were heading straight for the tower and Platov wondered if that was where Wraith was hiding. His question was soon answered as the carpets descended on the tower, slipping over the high outer walls and landing on the narrow inner bailey. With orders from Tancred, Platov and Tate were shown into the high tower. A long spiraling staircase led to the very top. The tower was hollow inside and the stairs hardly wide enough for two to pass easily. Without handrails, to slip would mean a very nasty fall to the very bottom of the tower. With aching legs, they finally reached the very top. With their faces to the cold wind, Tancred and his wizards were pointing out different features of the nearby mountains.

Wraith's hideout was believed to hidden just below the second peak, but down slightly where there was a known cave. Certain that the ghost of the wizard was watching them just the same, the great plan was laid out. The Stone of Cuore and Sage were what Wraith wanted, but it was also the stone and orb that would defeat him once again. Without much instruction in the use of such a powerful stone Platov was unsure how he could help. Platov listened as all the wizards coached him all at the same time. The only thing he heard clearly was to entice Wraith into revealing himself. Platov was confused by all the different directions. He decided upon doing what he had done before. Conspiring with the Sage, they made their own plans. Then as Wraith would not be about until nightfall, Platov and Tate took the great climb back down the spiraling stairs.

...

Furious that Platov had escaped by flying carpet, the wolves were rampaging northward to lay siege to the great Tower of Aleta. Snarling and tearing through the forest the enraged wolves were coming fast. But like Tancred Castle when the wolves arrived, the most they could do was storm around the outer walls snarling and baring their teeth. In mockery, Tate and Platov sat up on the parapet looking down at the wolves and eating the dinner Klara had sent with them. The wolves' eyes flashed while Platov and Tate looked down at them from the great height. Once finished with dinner, they reentered the hollow tower and began the long climb back to the top. Stopping at the first corbel about three-quarters up the side of the tower, they stepped out and looked over the landscape below. Then they climbed the stairs again, stopping at the next corbel for a view of the other direction. The snarling wolves had grown in numbers and they could see a long line of them still making their way across the land. Pointing out different sights, the boys then climbed the rest of the way to the very top of the tower. Here the wind blew hard while the height commanded a sweeping view in all directions. Rugged snow-covered mountains sat to the west where Wraith was hiding. Off to the south it was all forested and rolling hills. Off to the east were the blue tree-covered Murcula Mountains, while snow-covered barren granite mountains were to the North.

On the mountains to the west a long line of torches were moving. As if a giant ribbon, the torches all appeared to melt together as it wound its way around the rugged land. Platov watched the sight curiously while Tate pointed out another column of torches to the north. More dwarves were coming of that they were certain, but why they had allied themselves with Wraith was bewildering. Then with a rustle of wind, the wizards riding the carpets were returning. Rather than making the big effort of climbing the tower from the bottom, the wizards merely landed on the roof. Getting right down to business, a map was unfurled in the icy wind and laid out on a conjured table. Platov did hear that the Queen's army was approaching from the west but beyond their sight on the other side of the Dragon Mountains.

Darkness came swiftly and with the screech of a hawk circling near the tower. Torches lit up the entire tower and all around the surrounding protective walls. The wind howling at the great height muffled the snarls and bickering of the army of wolves far below. Taunting Platov, the wolves were leaping against the high walls. But the walls were strong, the bridge lifted and that was the most that the wolves could do. The wizards did not seem particularly impressed with Wraith's allies far below.

Holding the Stone of Cuore in his hand while Tate held the Sage, Platov felt its power charging and preparing for the battle. Other wizards with their own stones of power fixed to Staffs surrounded Platov. Charging a blue lightning ball at the tips of his fingers, Hawken worked a sizzling, snapping ball into a tight weave. Throbbing menacingly, Hawken held it back while another wizard conjured a red lightning ball. Bathed in the glow of the lightning balls, all waited. Tancred was studying the distant ribbon of torches moving against the mountain side. Estimating the number of dwarves in the thousands, Tancred pointed out different areas of his map.

Nodding in agreement, Tancred ordered the first strike to be flung directly at Wraith. Hurled into the air, the lightning balls shot swiftly into the sky arcing with a brilliant trail. In a flash of red and icy blue, the balls struck the side of the mountain unleashing a maelstrom of thunder. Muffled avalanches broke loose from the peaks and raced down the mountains. Then two fireballs were heading back directly at the high Tower of Aleta. Down below taking up on the hoardings and corbels wizards were conjuring up lightning balls preparing to strike.

Platov's labradorite stone glowed bright in his hand. Feeling a surge of energy gathering, consolidating, and then exploding, the skies lit up with a brilliant blinding sizzling blue flash. The incoming fireballs exploded and a blast of hot wind rattled the tower threatening to send Tate flying off. A wizard pulled Tate back and then just as quickly, the skies filled with lightning bolts, several of which came from the hoardings further down the side of the tower. Raining down on Wraith, the lightning lit up the mountainside in rapid succession. Torches that had been moving in a steady column stopped as the dwarves witnessed the assault. Far down below the snarling of wolves suddenly stopped as the deafening sound of thunder spread over the land. Then the Stone of Cuore blasted again much to Platov's astonishment. Startled, he jumped back and watched with Tate as a huge gust of iridescent blue and green wind swirled into a vortex. Taking aim on Wraith, the funnel cloud moved with unstoppable power driving blinding lightning ahead of it. A counterstrike launched by Wraith shot up from the mountain, but only to be absorbed into the vortex and turned back against the enemy.

"If that does not finish Wraith off.....," a wizard said admiringly at the power he was witnessing.

"He be deep in the cave," Tancred said. With his finger he followed the vortex that was shrinking in size but gaining in ferocity. Then as the vortex entered the narrow opening to the cave, it vanished. All held their breath and waited, then with an earthshaking roar, the vortex unleashed its fury in Wrath's cave.

It was at that moment that Platov saw a dark shape flying through the night sky. A shadow breathing fire and taking aim on the tower, the dragon was heading directly for Platov. With no doubt that it was Scorch coming to capture the Stone of Cuore, Platov pointed. Then pulled onto a carpet with Tate, Hawken guided the carpet into the air and they made their escape with only moments to spare. Fire lit up the sky as Scorch furiously bore down on them.

"Wraith, he be finished," Hawken said. "But Scorch, he be out for revenge."

Escape from Scorch's Revenge

The carpet veered off to the south flying down low over the forest. Looking back, Platov could see that Scorch was behind. Sweeping over the trees, Hawken swooped to the east heading for the great chasm. They would make their escape into the Adzes River canyon. A great blast of furious fire nipped at Platov as they swooped over the trees. Then diving straight down, Hawken guided the carpet right over the raging river. The river reflected Scorch's raging breath as they followed the wandering canyon southward. High over their heads dragon fire blasted the night sky. Platov could hear Scorch demanding back the stone. Taken by him with trickery, Scorch promised to hunt Platov down. Now of his two enemies, Platov clearly understood that Scorch was the one he must fear most.

"A dragon never forgets," Hawken said as the carpet raced through the canyon. Swooping between two tall pillars, Hawkins guided the carpet onto a flat area. Standing on the rock, Platov and Tate watched as Scorch high over the canyon still searched for them. A blast of dragon fire lit up the sky and Platov could hear Scorch's threats for revenge.

# Chapter 15: Always a Catch

Flying Carpets

For the third time Wraith had been diminished, but the old ghost was a bit cleverer than anyone was willing to credit him with. Now, dwarfs had taken over the Dragon Mountains and this was turning out to be quite a problem for the Queen. With thousands of dwarfs taking to the highlands, the Kingdom was divided into two halves, east and west. The dwarfs showed no intention of relinquishing their gains in territory. They stayed up in the mountains looking down at the long line of the Queen's forces far below. As to where Wraith had retreated off to, that was the subject of much speculation. Some thought that he had gone north to gain more allies. Platov and Tate had returned to their gatehouse chamber and aside from the occasional snarl of a passing wolf, all had returned to an uneasy calmness. For whatever reason, and there were many offered, Scorch had not come calling on Tancred Castle, not yet at least.

Taking lessons in the courtyard, Platov learned a little about the mighty power he held in the palm of his hand, a small iridescent stone capable of immense power. The Sage never said very much, but as the wizards expected the orb to make prophecies of the future, he did offer one or two. Weeks passed by and with the coming of spring, the dwarfs were still occupying the mountains. The Queen's army was waiting for orders far down below. The Queen apparently had little will to attempt to evict the dwarfs and perhaps her army had even less will to carry out her orders. After weeks of silence it was apparent the last wolf had left the forest, the strong bridge was finally lowered over the muddy moat. With the task of gathering a fresh supply of firewood, the boys at last left the safety of the castle.

Leaves had not sprouted yet and the ground was damp and spongy. Walking atop the brown rotting leaves of the previous summer, the boys gathered up firewood and loaded it onto the donkey cart. Elves, such had been seen frequently throughout the long winter were about. It was while pulling a fallen trunk suitable for cutting and burning on Tancred's hearth that Platov stumbled upon a grey stone. Curiously, he picked it up finding it unusually heavy. Rubbing it against another rock, Platov scraped away the outer crust to discover a shiny silver rock underneath. Sparks crinkled from the stone and holding it up, Platov showed it to Tate. Then they were searching for another rock as Tancred had said that meteorites are often found together. Hopeful they turned over every leaf and poked around in the ground at anything that looked promising. Then an elf dashed out and pointed at a place they had not inspected. Tate hurried off to investigate. He too found a heavy, but small gray stone and holding it next to Platov's they decided that they were the same. Finishing their chore and taking the donkey and cart back to the castle, they took the time and effort to raise the heavy bridge before showing Tancred what they had discovered.

"Scrape the crust off," Tancred instructed as he held one of the stones up in his hand. He appeared quite impressed as the properties of the stone were correct, particularly the weight as that was a key characteristic. He had examined the silver stone exposed where Platov had scraped it clean and said it was promising. To determine if the stone had any magical powers would be the next step after cleaning away the crust. The task would take the better part of two afternoons after chores to accomplish. But once done, they held out two stones, shiny, wrinkled, and silver with red veins. Tancred held his breath as he held out his wand. A strange power struggle ensued as either his wand held more magic or the stones did. In the end, the stones won the battle amid a great deal of sparking. But now more experiments would have to be conducted before the stones could be proven genuine moonstones.

A barrel of water was put into service. Taking a piece of iron, Tancred marked the water level. Then the first stone was plunked into the barrel and another mark was made. Tancred made careful measurements stating that this would reveal the volume of the stone. Sparks flew as Platov reached in and retrieved the stone. Painful as a strange sensation rushed through Platov, he held up the stone watching it casting out furious sparks. Then just the same, Tate plunked his stone into the water. His stone was larger and the water rose just a bit higher. Tate withdrew it and complained of the shock delivered to him. Then he carefully placed his stone on a balancing scale. Counting out lead pellets, Tancred dropped them on the balance until when just the right number of pellets were present the scale hovered in perfect harmony. The pellets were removed and now Platov held his breath. He very much wanted to have a moonstone and placed his on the scale. Like before, lead pellets were added one at a time until the scale was in perfect balance. Tancred raised an eyebrow, but said that the evidence was not conclusive yet. Careful calculations would have to be made before he could be certain. Removing the stones to his laboratory, Tancred intended a series of rigorous test or so he proclaimed.

"What will you do with yours?" Platov asked hopefully as they wandered into Klara's kitchen.

"I will polish it," Tate said.

"I will give mine to Scorch," Platov said with great hope that at last his worst enemy would be appeased.

"You can have mine," Tate offered. "I don't have any wizard powers. To me it is just a stone."

"Maybe we can find another," Platov said dismissing the notion of taking Tate's stone. It was at that moment that the castle shook and a great blinding flash appeared to have come from the very top of the only tower. Curiously, the boys dashed outside. A great mist had formed over the castle. Undulating and glowing quite brightly in a silvery shimmer the mist swirled about the tower. Then at once the mist sucked back into the high window. Startled by some strange magic Platov and Tate stared at the eerie glow coming from the top of the tower.

"Tomorrow we will go and see if we can find more," Platov said eagerly.

Dinner was waiting for them and Klara was standing at the door calling them in.

Taking to the table, the boys ate excitedly while wondering if the great experiments would be conclusive. The sight of the great swirling silvery mist was proof enough for Platov, but neither of them had any idea of what really happened to cause that in the first place.

After dinner, the boys were summoned to the great hall. Tancred had set the stones out in front of the fireplace. Capturing the hearth in their reflection, the wrinkled moonstones glowed orange and red.

"They are moonstones," Tancred was please to confirm.

"Can we look for more?" Tate asked eagerly.

"Surely," Tancred said. "Sometimes many can be found where one is found. They fall from the sky that way."

"I want to give mine to Scorch so that he will not be my enemy," Platov said as he examined his stone from all sides. Strangely, he did not want to give it up but then he did not want to be devoured by an angry dragon either.

"If that is what you choose," Tancred said. "But it is important that the stone not fall into Wraith's hands for then he will have the power to defeat you. The strength of the moonstone is very great."

Platov sighed as there was always a catch. Then he thought of giving the Stone of Cuore back to Scorch and keeping the moonstone instead. The Stone of Cuore flared refusing such a compromise. Platov sighed.

"A dilemma," Sage said with a tad of sarcasm.

Tancred chuckled as the problem was turning out to be a deep dilemma indeed. Personally he was concerned of what Scorch would do with the moonstone if given to him. The magic powers meant nothing to a dragon, whereas Wraith would be eager to lay his hands on it.

"Maybe we will find another," Tate said hopefully. "If not then I will give mine to Platov. I cannot use it for any magic."

"Very generous," Tancred chuckled again while the Sage's eyes drooped in boredom over the affairs of men and wizards.

"Wraith will have to be vanquished," Tancred advised. "Then you may give the moonstone to Scorch."

"Perhaps you can convince Scorch to turn against Wraith," Sage suggested.

Platov shook his head as he did not know what to do. Then dismissed, they departed for their chamber in the gatehouse. A wolf was beyond the moat snarling and now Platov doubted that they would be able to go into the forest again. Carefully, he put the Sage and Stone of Cuore on the heavy oak table and then stirred up the fire.

"A fine mess we weave when we first set out to deceive," Sage said with a yawn and then its eyes closed.

"You told me to get the stone," Platov sighed, and then he stared at the fire considering his choices carefully. Conjuring his council of spiders, he set them out in a row to help him make a decision.

"I shall keep the moonstone and then I shall always have two enemies," Platov said with resignation. "One greater and one lesser."

"Do you suppose the wolves know what we found?" Tate asked. A snarl from beyond the moat confirmed that question.

But it was not until later that night as the moonlight flooded in through the narrow arrow slot. A shadow crossed the floor and Platov awakened by the sense of someone watching bolted up from his bed. The elf had returned. Not knowing his name, Platov stared at the tiny elf clad in green with a quiver of arrows and a bow. He was standing on the sill of the arrow slot.

"Wraith has captured the moonstone in Pristina," the elf announced. "Scorch is on his way here. With his tail he will shatter this tower. Run!"

Bolting out of bed, Platov gathered up his Sage and magic stone. With Tate on his heels they bolted out the door to seek refuge in the keep. Spreading the alarm across the courtyard to Kaspar they raced to the front door of the keep. Quintus summoned Tancred while Agdar, Tancred's dragon on the tower roared with fire.

"Then we have no choice!" Tancred decreed as he learned of the latest developments. The moonstones were gathered and hurrying they rushed to the top of the keep. Peering out over the courtyard from behind the battlements all watched the sky over the forest. A dragon was coming and Tancred cautioned Agdar to wait.

"First we negotiate," Tancred said as they watched the dragon closing in on the castle.

"Negotiate with a dragon?" Kaspar chuckled. Armed with a crossbow, he took aim out over the gatehouse tower.

Scorch circled beyond the gatehouse tower demanding an audience. Platov gulped and watched as the dragon circled around the dark skies again. A puff of fire erupted from its nostrils while Agdar plenty peeved snorted in retaliation with his own fiery breath.

"Speak!" Platov bravely stood up revealing himself.

# Chapter 16: The New Enemy

Scorch

"A parlay!" Tancred declared. Standing on the roof of the keep behind the battlements the wizard held out his Staff. A great light was conjured and driven by a gust of conjured wind, the bright glow lifted into the air. Rising to a height, the entire castle was illuminated in a pale blue glow. Long shadows fell across the courtyard.

A tense moment followed as Scorch circled and came in for a landing on the gatehouse tower. Agdar was furiously fuming with fire from his perch on the castle tower. Hissing sounds that only dragons could understand followed as a temporary truce was declared. Nevertheless, Tancred's dragon remained cautiously posed.

Platov conjured his council of spiders and set them out on the battlements in a neat row. Tate cringed and avoided Scorch's hypnotic lavender eyes.

Scorch rose up and sputtering with smoke and fire, he spoke, putting forth his point-of-view with a courteous formality not often seen among dragons.

"The stone has been my protection from Wraith. Taken from me by Platov in deceitful trickery, now I have no power of the wicked wizard," Scorch stated.

Platov listened and did not deny that he had taken the stone by trickery. Kaspar scoffed over the dragon's pathetic claims, citing that Scorch had no doubt obtained the Stone of Cuore by trickery of his own. Tancred maintained neutrality as he intended to allow both sides to speak.

"Wraith has captured a moonstone," Scorch continued after a long pause during which time he was watching Platov closely. "Stolen from the protection of Sabian, Wraith has a great power that he will wield against all of us. Already the dwarfs cower to his demands. Wraith is whom you need fear!"

Platov consulted his council. The six spiders all spoke among themselves in whispers and then one stepped forward. "The rightful choice is to return the Store of Cuore to Scorch."

Platov shook his head.

"Then you will have to give Scorch your moonstone," the spider spoke again. With a bow it stepped back and took its place with the rest of the council.

"We have two moonstones," Tate said. "I will give mine to Scorch."

Tancred stroked his long white beard as he considered the matter.

"The moonstone has to come from Platov," Sage spoke. "But consider this. By giving Scorch your moonstone, you will gain the alliance of Scorch. He will no longer be your enemy as you have given Scorch something of great value."

"The Sage speaks the truth," the spider said as it stepped forward.

"The moonstone given must be Platov's for Scorch will know the difference," Tancred confirmed.

"Then I will give my moonstone to Platov," Tate said. "It is of no value to me."

"On the contrary," Tancred said. "The value of the moonstone is vast. You will forfeit a fortune!"

Tate shook his head as he valued his friendship with Platov far more.

"A great misfortune for you Platov if you accept the moonstone from your friend," the spider stated. "One that both of you will one day regret."

Platov thanked Tate for his offer and refused the moonstone.

"The moonstones may have been from one large meteorite that fell from the sky," Sage advised. "If it broke apart as it crashed to the earth, then the three moonstones are really one. They will not battle each other, instead they will ally themselves. If the moonstones are virtuous then Wraith being wickedness may unwittingly bring about his own defeat. The moonstones will conspire against him. Platov, give your moonstone to Scorch. Tate, you will keep yours as someday you may need it. Then we will wage a campaign to capture the moonstone from Wraith. A fellowship between men, wizards, and dragons!"

"What if the moonstones disposition is to depravity?" Tancred inquired.

"A delicate balance as one moonstone will be held neutral by Scorch," Sage replied. "One held by Tate and one held by Wraith. If kept apart then their wickedness will never be realized."

"I see," Tancred stroked his beard considering the possibilities.

"I shall give my moonstone to Scorch," Platov said after consulting his council.

Tancred looked thoughtfully over the courtyard avoiding making eye contact with Scorch. Then having resolved whatever concerns he held, he stepped forward to address the dragon.

"Scorch! Platov will make restitution for his trickery by the bestowment of a moonstone unto you. Do we have an agreement?" Tancred's voice bellowed across the courtyard.

"By what means does Platov hold a moonstone? Has he taken this too by deceit?" Scorch rose up and asked with a snort of fire and smoke.

"No!" Platov howled. "I found it, fair and square. Tate is my witness. Two moonstones found together in the forest, belonging to nobody!"

"Two moonstones?" Scorch looked baffled. Then standing up he snorted. "Then I accept the offer of restitution."

"The moonstone will be brought to you," Tancred declared. "A truce declared and an alliance formed between Platov and Scorch!"

"An alliance," Scorch bowed in agreement.

"A fellowship between dragons, wizards, and men for a common cause," Tancred stated loudly.

"A fellowship, together we will defeat Wraith for the final time," Scorch hissed. "To his will he has bended me, long has he been my enemy."

Platov bowed in acceptance while his council of spiders witnessed the declaration.

"Have you given any thought as to how you will deliver the moonstone to the dragon?" Kaspar asked with a curious chuckle.

Platov scratched his head as he had not considered how to bring the moonstone to the dragon that previously wanted only to devour him in revenge.

Tancred stepped forward to make arrangements. Agreeable, Scorch flew off the gatehouse tower and circled out over the forest. Platov and Tate gathered up the moonstone and then took it to the tower. Placing it on the roof, they scattered off and waiting while Scorch returned and scrutinized the offering. Picking up the moonstone, Scorch dropped it from a height to see if it would crumble into dust. Satisfied, Scorch bowed again, promised to be nearby, and then flew off.

"A great guilt has been lifted," Platov sighed with relief.

"Have you learned your lesson?" Klara scolded. "Trickery and deceit go hand in hand with wickedness."

"Yes Ma'am," Platov gulped.

"A curious twist of fortunes," Kaspar chuckled. "And a great one carried away."

"We had better prepare for Wraith will soon reveal his intentions," Tancred said.

...

Some days later, a snarl outside the gatehouse awakened Platov in the middle of the night. The wolves had been seen in the forest but their numbers were dwindling. The occasional snarl and howling call of the wild was commonplace. Without Wraith's influence the forest was part of the wolves' natural range. But this snarl was far fiercer. Platov knew the wolf was looking for him the second time he heard the growl.

He crawled out of bed and climbed up on the stool to look out the narrow window. Oorts were flittering around in the upper branches of the trees while down below the forest was covered in a dense midnight fog. Just beyond the moat, the red eyes of the wolf glared up at Platov. Snarling, the wolf demanded that Platov speak with him.

Platov picked up his stone and the Sage, donned his shoes and pulled a heavy leather tunic over his head. Tate's moonstone sat on the table and for a moment, Platov's fingers reached out for it. A spark zapped him painfully and he withdrew his finger. Sliding back the heavy oak beam, Platov crept out into the stairwell. Reaching the roof, Platov stayed behind the battlements and looked down at the burning eyes of the Wolf King.

"To the dragon, Scorch you hast bestowed a moonstone," Vladislav, the Wolf King snarled and glared at Platov. "An injustice for as you give my enemy such power, you hast not offered the same unto me."

"I have no others," Platov replied.

"Surely, you deceive me with such denying words," the wolf growled. "You have another. I demand it!"

"It is not my moonstone," Platov said.

"The moonstone does not belong in the hands of a mere mortal," Vladislav curtly replied. Its red eyes flashed and Platov cringed as he sensed the wolf's rage.

"You are a foul creature," Platov said. "If I give you a moonstone that is not mine to give, then you will become the foulest of creatures!"

The wolf snarled. "The foulest of all creatures is the dragon. When hast ye witnessed a wolf burn the forest!"

"I will not give you a moonstone even if I could find another," Platov said. "Ye be allied with Wraith, my enemy."

"Ye have allied with Scorch!" The wolf's eyes grew bright with rage. "By your refusal, you have earned an enemy!"

"So be it then," Platov said.

The wolf snarled and bore into Platov with its wicked eyes. "I shall devour Tate!" He promised. "Then you will regret this day more than all others."

"You shall not devour Tate! For if you do then I will raise the Stone of Cuore against you!" Platov threatened.

"Then it be that all the wolves will be turned against you," the wolf snarled.

Wolves hidden until now came out from behind the trees and gathered behind their King. Howling and snarling, the wolves declared themselves Platov's enemy.

"Consider you choices carefully," the Wolf King threatened.

"You cannot threaten me," Platov retorted and then holding out the Stone of Cuore he let the King witness the gathering power. "I shall smote you! Your subjects will flee with fear in their eyes." The Stone of Cuore suddenly lit up the sky. A bolt of lightning crashed down just before the Wolf King. But the wicked red-eyed wolf remained unscathed. With a piercing snarl, the wolf's eyes flashed and Platov realized that defeating the Vladislav would not be easily accomplished.

"I will return!" Vladislav threatened. "You will surrender the moonstone to me or I shall devour Tate!" Then amid a great snarling and howling of wolves, the King bounded off into the forest.

"Now I have two enemies again," Platov sighed as he watched the last of the nasty wolves retreat into the trees.

"The Wolf King has no power over Scorch," Sage said. "He is afraid that Scorch will defeat him with the moonstone."

"I do not have another," Platov was angry now. "Canst Tate defeat the Wolf King with his moonstone?"

"Perhaps," Sage replied. "But then another Wolf King will rise up and become your enemy just the same."

With shaken confidence, Platov stumbled back to his chamber and painstakingly barred the door.

**...**

**Other books by Stephen I. Carmer**

Read more about the Third Age of Timare

The series

Young Adult Action Fiction

The series begins in

Episode 1: _The Four Towers of Alacantar_

Follow the adventures of Deki and Hanta.

Swept away into a world neither could have ever imagined, the journey begins at sea.

Discover an old world of magic, wizards, and a wicked dragon seeking to devour the Prince!

Going to a new school is tough for anyone, but what if your school was taught by ghosts?

...

Episode 2: _The Drums of Hadzi_

The adventures of Deki and Hanta continue

Just as the dragons are sweeping down as one Prince escapes Alacantar Castle! The other Prince has vanished! The perilous journey begins!

Not to mention, the Empresses --Tara and Astanshia are about to conquer the Dragon Empire, much to Toldare's chagrin.

...

Episode 3: _The Siege of the Raven Dragon_

The legendary Wolf King and the Raven Dragon are out for revenge!

The adventures continue with a startling new development.

...

Available at Smashwords.com

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