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Accidental Archaeologist (Half-Wizard Thordric Book 2) Page 8


  'What makes you think that this Shifty Tome is different?' he asked. Yet again she had taken another apple, so he cloned a few more to fill the space that she'd made.

  She thought for a moment. 'He does things, things he thinks people can't see,' she said. 'Like making things float over to him or making people look another way while he does something else. But it always works. I've never seen him have any accidents or break anything like the others.'

  Thordric's opinion of Tome was sinking lower and lower. What a crook he was.

  'I think he might really be like you, but he doesn't want people to know about it,' she continued.

  Thordric smiled. Rude as she was, Lily obviously had a very sharp mind and her eyes caught even the smallest detail. She had told him more in an hour than he had hoped to have found in a week.

  He found he liked her, wondering if his sisters would be anything like her once they were older. 'Do you come to the market here every afternoon?' he asked.

  'It's my job,' she said with a shrug. 'Mother works at the springs and father is a sailor onboard The Jardine. He sailed out again yesterday.'

  It was still early afternoon and, after saying goodbye to Lily, Thordric thought he would go and speak to the Mr Henders that she had pointed out to him.

  He made his way over to the stall, a large, purple covered table covered in ladies hats. Surrounding it were two enormous tree-like stands covered in even more hats.

  'Have you something you would like to buy for a lady friend, sir?' a small, crooked man asked behind the stall.

  At first, Thordric had presumed he was an old man, but as he looked he saw that Mr Henders could only have been in his late thirties, though his back was bent in a permanent stoop and his left hand was shrivelled and claw-like.

  'Sir?' Mr Henders asked again.

  Thordric swallowed. He could smell a nasty tang of magic coming from him. Magic that had gone horribly, horribly wrong.

  Chapter Twelve: Hats and Tree Branches

  As Mr Henders was waiting patiently for Thordric to reply, he decided it would be rude not to buy anything. Perhaps Lizzie and his mother would like new hats, but which ones? He thought Lizzie would like something with flowers on it, but as he couldn't choose, Mr Henders asked him what she was like.

  Thordric described her to him, mentioning her motherly, but sometimes schoolteacher like ways, and, to test his reaction, her knowledge of magic.

  However, Mr Henders just nodded and then brought out a hat so perfect for her that Thordric was amazed. It was a soft cream colour, decorated with miniature wax fruits and delicate blue roses and, placed in between, was a small glass vial filled with a honeyed gold potion that Thordric knew to be one of Vey's most recent works. It was called 'Blossom Fingers' and it protected the hands, feet and other extremities from the cold or extreme heat, and healed even deep cuts leaving a only a faint scar shaped like a cherry blossom.

  'It's perfect,' Thordric said, looking at it. As to how Mr Henders had acquired such a potion and how he had known how useful it would be for Lizzie when she worked in her garden was a mystery.

  'Mr Henders,' he began, as Mr Henders boxed the hat up. 'I was wondering—'

  'Ah, but you wanted a hat for your mother as well, did you not?' Mr Henders said. 'Let's see.'

  He looked at Thordric closely, peering over his glasses until Thordric felt quite uncomfortable.

  'Ah, I think this would be best,' he said finally, going to one of the stands by his stall and taking off a red silk beret style hat. Thordric blinked. It was such a good match for her that he could even picture her wearing it, the colour complimenting her silken brown curls and rouged lips.

  Mr Henders had to be a wizard of some sort.

  'That will be two hundred coins altogether, sir,' he said.

  Thordric took out his coin purse and counted out the money in ten piece coins. 'I'm sorry, Mr Henders, but I must ask you—'

  'I know very well what you wish to ask me, sir, but I'm afraid I can't tell you here,' he dropped his voice as Thordric frowned at him. 'It's terribly bad for business, you see.'

  'Then where would you suggest?' Thordric asked.

  'You're staying at Morweena's, aren't you?' Mr Henders smiled. 'I live just around the corner. Come over after supper and I'll tell you all about it.'

  Morweena gave Thordric the directions to Mr Henders' house and, after supper as he had promised, he made his way there.

  The house was painted a soft blue, much calmer than Morweena's orange and green. Before he had even knocked, Mr Henders opened the door for him.

  Thordric went in and followed him into the lounge, where he saw a row of very neat shelves, displaying a large collection of hats. There was also a glass cabinet full of what looked like potions and powders of every kind the Council had made.

  'Ah, I see you've noticed my cabinet,' Mr Henders said, bringing in some tea. 'I've always been interested in magic. And yes, you are correct in your assumptions.'

  Thordric protested that he hadn't been assuming anything.

  'Don't worry, young sir, I'm not offended. This,' he said, gesturing to his withered hand, 'was indeed caused by magic. As you have also guessed, I am a half-wizard like yourself.'

  'How did you know that?' Thordric asked, choking slightly on his tea.

  Mr Henders smiled. 'Because you are Thordric, the youngest wizard of the Council. You see, I was in Jard Town not long after you became a member. The entire town was awash with news about you, so I heard a great deal.'

  'Then you must know of the Council's reform,' Thordric said.

  'Alas, I had left before High Wizard Vey had announced the changes he was to make, but my guess would be that he decreed all half-wizards be allowed the opportunity to train their magic and become part of the Council too, am I correct?'

  'Yes, that's one of the reasons why I'm in Neathin Valley. I wanted to make sure that all the half-wizards here know that they can train if they want to and, though I won't force anyone, I wanted to suggest that they do. Even if they don't want to join the Council, because—'

  'Untrained magic can be extraordinarily dangerous,' Mr Henders finished. 'I admire your concern, sir, but I fear it is too late for me.'

  Thordric studied him for a moment. 'If that was to be reversed,' he said, nodding to Mr Henders' hand and twisted back, 'would you reconsider?'

  'If it were at all possible; yes. But even for a wizard of your skill I do not think you can succeed.'

  'Well, I agree with you there,' Thordric smiled. 'But Vey could.'

  'I would not wish to bother his reverence so,' Mr Henders said.

  Thordric realised his problem. Mr Henders and, he suspected, most of the other people here, though of Vey in the same way they had thought of Kalljard; like some sort of king or lord. But Vey simply wasn't like that; despite being High Wizard he still thought of himself as just another person, of no more importance than anyone else. It seemed that only Thordric and Lizzie realised it. Even the rest of the Council and Thordric's mother and the Inspector thought of Vey as a monarch.

  'Mr Henders, Vey will help you if you want him to,' he said, pulling his long distance communicator out of his pocket, careful not to damage any of the petals on the flower poking out of the top.

  He pressed the button on the side and spoke into it. 'Vey, are you there? Vey?'

  'Thordric, is that you?' Vey replied, again sounding as though he was in the room. 'I'm afraid you'll have to give me a moment, I've just spilt stew all over my robes. I'll just go and change them.'

  As Vey broke off, Thordric could just hear footsteps moving away and then the rustle of fabric. Mr Henders was calmly drinking his tea, though Thordric noticed that his face was rather white.

  'That's quite the device, sir,' he complimented Thordric.

  Vey's footsteps sounded again, coming closer. 'Sorry, Thordric,' his voice came from the communicator. 'What was it you wanted to say?'

  'Actually, I didn't call you for myself. My friend, Mr Hend
ers, would like to talk with you. He's a half-wizard too, but he had a problem with his magic. He was wondering if you could help him,' Thordric said, giving the communicator to him so that he could speak into it.

  'Your reverence,' Mr Henders began, but Vey interrupted him immediately.

  'Please, just call me Vey,' he said, and then added quietly, 'I must do something about that silly term.'

  Thordric snorted into his cup.

  Mr Henders looked uncertain. 'Vey,' he began again. 'I'm rather embarrassed to say, but, despite everyone telling me to ignore my magic when I was younger, I took to practicing when no one was around. I…I injured myself because of it.'

  Thordric broke in at this point. 'I don't think I'm powerful enough to help him, Vey. There's damage to his hand and spine and I don't know enough about anatomy to reverse it.'

  'Well then, Mr Henders,' Vey said. 'Perhaps I can be of service. I'll book you passage to Jard Town as soon as I can, if you wish it.'

  Mr Henders dropped his tea cup. 'You'll really help me?'

  'Of course. Though I suggest you go through some basic training afterwards just to be safe.'

  Thordric returned to Morweena's late that night, for Mr Henders and Vey had spoken for a long time afterwards to arrange everything for his journey.

  She appeared to have already gone to bed and so, feeling rather tired himself, Thordric did the same, glad that there were no longer any towers of books looming over him from beside the bed.

  However, before he went to sleep, he picked up the book she had given him about the springs of the Valley Flats. There was a map inside, showing the locations of not just the ones open to visitors, but every spring discovered so far.

  To his surprise, it even had the springs in the Wanderers hide-out, though it said that the entrance had been blocked off due to the unsafe nature of the caves. Of course it was unsafe with a crook like Tome living there!

  He shook his head at the thought, but then saw that there was a large spring near the location of Hamlet's dig site.

  Not for the first time he wondered what they had found there, but he would still have plenty of time to visit after he had found the mysterious drunken man that Lily had told him about.

  Sighing, he closed the book and resolved to get a good night's sleep.

  A loud banging on his door woke him up. It was still dark, so he summoned a fire as he got up to open it.

  'Morweena? What's the matter?' he said sleepily.

  She was wearing her nightgown, with her hair frizzier than normal, and was shaking.

  'It's terrible, Thordric. There's someone outside, he's trying to break in. He's using some kind of magic.'

  'What?' he said, still dazed.

  She didn't answer him, but instead pulled him out of the room and down the stairs. Someone was shouting outside and something kept on crashing against the doors and windows.

  Wide awake now, Thordric pushed open the front door, but had to close it quickly as a large tree branch flew at his head. Morweena was right, whoever it was, they were using magic, for the branch had been too large for anyone to throw without it.

  'Stay here,' he told her.

  He opened the door again, this time ready to repel anything that was flying his way.

  'You,' someone hissed in front of him.

  Thordric summoned two more fires, lighting the street around them. A man stood a few feet in front of him, wobbling slightly. There was a bottle in his hand, made of swirled glass, and it was full of a brown liquid that he could smell even from where he stood. He guessed it was alcohol and, if so, then this was the drunken man that Lily had told him about.

  'We don't need your help or your sympathy,' the drunken man spat, raining branches on Thordric's head.

  Thordric waved his hand and the branches stacked neatly into a pile beside him. A whimper came from the man's left and, as Thordric enlarged the fires, he saw that Mr Henders was tied up to a tree with one of his own waxed fruits in his mouth.

  'It's awfully rude to tie someone up,' Thordric said calmly, loosening the rope and removing the fruit from Mr Henders mouth. 'Why don't you come inside and tell me what all this is about,' he continued.

  As he spoke, the drunken man suddenly found himself tied up by the very rope he'd used on Mr Henders. Thordric levitated him upside down into the house, ignoring his cries, being extra careful to bang the man's head on the floor.

  Helping Mr Henders inside, they all took a seat at Morweena's table. Still keeping the drunken man tied up, Thordric made him drink a potion that he had summoned from his bag. Within moments the man grew quiet and the harsh redness from his face had drained away.

  'What was that you just gave him there, young sir?' Mr Henders asked curiously. There were marks on the man's arm and neck where the rope had cut into him. Thordric would have to make a poultice for him later.

  'It's a potion to remove poison and reduce fevers. I thought it would help to calm him down a bit, though it might be a while before he's able to talk. Why don't you tell me what happened?' he asked, absently summoning one of Morweena's lopsided cakes to the table.

  Mr Henders exhaled audibly. 'Though I hate to admit it, he's my twin brother. He never liked being told not to use his magic, so he went to live over in the mountains bordering the country. The people there keep to themselves, so he was free to use his magic as much as he wanted without anyone saying otherwise.'

  'Why did he come back, then? Thordric asked, looking at the dreamy smile that was now on the drunken man's face.

  'I do not know, sir,' Mr Henders replied. 'But he only arrived a few weeks ago, asking about a discovery further out by the springs.'

  The drunken man giggled to himself and Thordric frowned.

  He needed to visit that dig site.

  Chapter Thirteen: The Drunken Man

  Morweena and Mr Henders quietly sipped the tea that Thordric had made them while they watched him untie the drunken man. He put the rope on the table in front of him, a reminder that he could tie him back up again if he tried anything stupid.

  Of course, Thordric didn't really need to tie him up if he did get rowdy; he could always levitate him up to the ceiling and leave him there for a while to cool off, but that wasn't usually the best way to get answers.

  'So, what is your name? I can't keep on calling you the drunken man now that I've erased all the alcohol in your body,' Thordric said.

  The man stopped grinning and sat up seriously. He frowned, flexing all the muscles in his body, looking confused. 'How did you do that?' he asked, his voice surprisingly soft.

  'I gave you a potion,' Thordric said, raising his eyebrow. 'You were awake when I did it, it was just a few minutes ago.'

  'But nothing should have been able to make me sober. I enhanced that drink so that no matter what anyone gave me or did to me, the alcohol wouldn't leave my body.'

  By now he was shaking and, thinking the man was simply cold, Thordric gave him some tea and summoned a blanket to put around his shoulders.

  'Why did you do that? Surely you didn't want to stay drunk?' Thordric pressed.

  The man's eyes grew wide and he shut them quickly, reaching for his tea. He shook even more.

  Mr Henders got up and went over to him. 'What is it, Grale?' he asked, putting his hand on his brother's shoulder.

  Grale looked up, directly at Thordric. 'The men that disappeared from the hotel. I know where they are.'

  'Where?'

  To his surprise, Grale summoned Thordric's map from upstairs. As it floated gently down onto the table, Grale studied it for a moment. Then he pointed to a single spot.

  Thordric looked at it; it was Hamlet's dig site.

  'They were working there,' Grale continued, pushing the map away. 'I came down from the mountains because I'd heard they'd found something that belonged to an ancient tribe; a tribe who also had magic.'

  'What happened then?' Thordric asked. If the archaeologists were supposed to be at the dig site, why was everyone saying that t
hey'd disappeared? Perhaps they had wanted to stay there for a few nights to finish up and just hadn't returned yet.

  Grale seemed to read his mind. 'I don't think they're ever coming back,' he said, withdrawing into the blanket. 'When I went there…' he closed his eyes, as though deep in thought.

  Thordric waited for a moment, but then a loud snore came from Grale's lips.

  'Mr Henders,' Thordric said, sighing, 'I don't think he'll say anything else tonight. We should all get some rest.' He stood up, promptly upsetting the milk jug, but he was too tired to worry.

  Showing Mr Henders home while levitating Grale along behind him, he remembered that the girl, Lily, had told him her brother had gone to the dig site too. If something had happened to him, like the others, then he had to find out.

  He just hoped that Hamlet was safe.

  Thordric slept late, but Morweena slept even later.

  To stop her from complaining and because he couldn't meet Lily until the afternoon, he continued to work on the house.

  His room was now clear apart from the bed and, thanks to a good scrubbing, was clean too. All he had left to do was paint it.

  She hadn't given him any specific colour scheme, so he decided to make the room as light as possible by turning it white. It had been a long time since he'd done any painting, though, of course, he didn't have to worry about paint or brush. Though he found he was quite rusty, long, graceful strokes of paint appeared on the walls as he guided his mind to each spot. The trick was not to lose focus, for a sudden stray thought could change the colour he was using in an instant.

  Just as he'd finished, stepping back to admire his handiwork, Morweena came in and told him it was too white. 'A house is supposed to be filled with colour, not be without it,' she said, shaking her head.

  He supposed it was a bit plain and the brightness of it reminded him slightly of his mother's morgue.

  'I want you to paint every room in a different colour of the rainbow,' Morweena continued, tugging at her frizzy hair. 'Bold, bright colours, Thordric.'