Read Online A Bad Spell in Yurt - Wizard of Yurt - 1 by C. Dale Brittain - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: C. Dale Brittain
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branches of its oak. The first drops pattered on the leaves above us as I led the mare under the branches. The old wizard was no longer sitting in front of his house, but the green door was open.
I took off the saddle and bridle and rubbed the mare down. Being under the tree was like being under a tent. I could hear the drum of drops on the leaves, and the air became damp, but we were safe in a bubble made of branches. I finished with the horse, tapped at the door, and went into the house.
I had been expecting shelves of books; after al , every wizard I had ever known had books on his shelves, books piled on his desk, even books in heaps on the floor. But there were very few books in the old wizard's house.
Instead there were cones of light, gently swirling masses of stars, forms that changed from tree to man to beast and back to tree as one watched. I ignored them al assiduously and concentrated on the old wizard, who had just lit a fire in the smal fireplace. Bolts of lightning flashed outside the window, and thunder rumbled continuously. But inside al was peaceful.
"Come sit by my fire," said the old wizard in the friendliest tone he had used to me yet.
I sat down on the hearth, thankful for the warmth; the summer's day had grown cold. We sat in silence, except for the thunder, for several minutes while I tried to decide how to ask him what I had come to find out.
"We heard a lot about the old magic at the wizards' school," I began. I had considered saying that we had been taught to respect the old magic, but decided it would sound as though I were being condescending to someone seven times my age. "And I grew more and more convinced that there is magic that wizards al used to know that has never been put in our books."
"Wel , you're right," he said almost reluctantly, as though not wanting to admit that I was right about anything.
"And yet the old magic is the basis for al the new magic of the last hundred and fifty years," I continued. "The wizards who learned by experimentation and apprenticeship channeled the power of magic, made it possible for magic to be organized, to be written down in books, made it less wild, made it something that could actual y be taught in a classroom."
I had been going to go on from this brief history of modern wizardry--nearly everything I remembered from a whole course!--to explain that I needed his special and ancient magic talents to help me find out what was happening in Yurt, but he interrupted me.
"And look what's happened!" he cried in his rasping voice. "With al you young wizards and magic workers, the channels of magic have been worn so deeply in some areas that any fool can work a simple spel . You say you've made magic less wild, but al you've done is make easier for the wild magic of the north to come in!"
I was horrified. I would normal y never have thought that the wizardry that tamed magic also invited wild magic into the land of men, but in the old wizard's dimly-lit room it seemed most probable.
"Or didn't you ever think of that?" he said with a sneer. I decided no answer was best. "You and your books! You think you've made magic easier for the simple-minded who shouldn't be doing magic anyway, but by cutting deep ruts in the channels of human magic you've just made it easier for wild magic to come pouring in. How would you like to see a dragon in Yurt?"
I considered and rejected the possibility that there was a dragon in the castle cel ars already.
"And now you can't go anywhere without some fool claiming he or she knows magic."
"Does anyone in the castle know magic?" I said quickly, trying to get in at least one of the questions I had.
"Of course not," he said brusquely. "Unless you'd consider counting yourself!"
I wondered if his brusqueness was concealing a lie, but between his manner and the insult it was impossible to ask him again. Instead I tried to be conciliatory. "I was just wondering because a strange thing happened when I first arrived. I'd put a
I took off the saddle and bridle and rubbed the mare down. Being under the tree was like being under a tent. I could hear the drum of drops on the leaves, and the air became damp, but we were safe in a bubble made of branches. I finished with the horse, tapped at the door, and went into the house.
I had been expecting shelves of books; after al , every wizard I had ever known had books on his shelves, books piled on his desk, even books in heaps on the floor. But there were very few books in the old wizard's house.
Instead there were cones of light, gently swirling masses of stars, forms that changed from tree to man to beast and back to tree as one watched. I ignored them al assiduously and concentrated on the old wizard, who had just lit a fire in the smal fireplace. Bolts of lightning flashed outside the window, and thunder rumbled continuously. But inside al was peaceful.
"Come sit by my fire," said the old wizard in the friendliest tone he had used to me yet.
I sat down on the hearth, thankful for the warmth; the summer's day had grown cold. We sat in silence, except for the thunder, for several minutes while I tried to decide how to ask him what I had come to find out.
"We heard a lot about the old magic at the wizards' school," I began. I had considered saying that we had been taught to respect the old magic, but decided it would sound as though I were being condescending to someone seven times my age. "And I grew more and more convinced that there is magic that wizards al used to know that has never been put in our books."
"Wel , you're right," he said almost reluctantly, as though not wanting to admit that I was right about anything.
"And yet the old magic is the basis for al the new magic of the last hundred and fifty years," I continued. "The wizards who learned by experimentation and apprenticeship channeled the power of magic, made it possible for magic to be organized, to be written down in books, made it less wild, made it something that could actual y be taught in a classroom."
I had been going to go on from this brief history of modern wizardry--nearly everything I remembered from a whole course!--to explain that I needed his special and ancient magic talents to help me find out what was happening in Yurt, but he interrupted me.
"And look what's happened!" he cried in his rasping voice. "With al you young wizards and magic workers, the channels of magic have been worn so deeply in some areas that any fool can work a simple spel . You say you've made magic less wild, but al you've done is make easier for the wild magic of the north to come in!"
I was horrified. I would normal y never have thought that the wizardry that tamed magic also invited wild magic into the land of men, but in the old wizard's dimly-lit room it seemed most probable.
"Or didn't you ever think of that?" he said with a sneer. I decided no answer was best. "You and your books! You think you've made magic easier for the simple-minded who shouldn't be doing magic anyway, but by cutting deep ruts in the channels of human magic you've just made it easier for wild magic to come pouring in. How would you like to see a dragon in Yurt?"
I considered and rejected the possibility that there was a dragon in the castle cel ars already.
"And now you can't go anywhere without some fool claiming he or she knows magic."
"Does anyone in the castle know magic?" I said quickly, trying to get in at least one of the questions I had.
"Of course not," he said brusquely. "Unless you'd consider counting yourself!"
I wondered if his brusqueness was concealing a lie, but between his manner and the insult it was impossible to ask him again. Instead I tried to be conciliatory. "I was just wondering because a strange thing happened when I first arrived. I'd put a
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