Read Online Off to Be the Wizard - 2 - Spell or High Water by Scott Meyer - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Scott Meyer
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mean try to act like everything is all right, which would be good, or it could mean try to act like I’m a really cool guy, which would be disastrously bad.
Goodbyes were exchanged. Instructions were imparted. Stern warnings were leveled at Gary. It was time to go. Martin and Phillip stood side by side, staffs in one hand, suitcases in the other, and in unison said, “ Transporto unua Atlantis kunveno .”
Many, many years before, and many, many miles away, two figures materialized. It was impossible to identify them further because they were cloaked in shadow, despite the bright sun that shone overhead.
For a moment the incongruously shady duo stood motionless, then they were bathed in brilliant light, making it easy to identify them as Martin and Phillip. Phillip winced in the blinding light, shielding his eyes. Martin leapt into the air, much higher and more gracefully than he’d ever be able to without magical assistance . He executed a perfect roundhouse kick, a feat that was all the more impressive for his still holding his staff in one hand and his full suitcase in the other. At the apex of his jump, he froze, motionless in mid-air. As he hung there, the vista behind him was filled with images of explosions, blood-thirsty orcs, and what appeared to be a white Pontiac Fiero jumping a ravine. Both Martin and the tableau held their position behind Phillip for a moment, giving the intended audience the impression that they were looking at the poster for an action-packed buddy movie about a kung-fu wizard frequent-flyer and his straight-laced, confused partner. From somewhere, an electric guitar solo played, then the images of cheesy B-movie awesomeness disappeared . Martin landed on the opposite side of Phillip from where he’d started. With a carefully practiced air of nonchalance, Martin lifted his gaze to receive the audience’s reaction to their entrance.
Martin saw the bluest sky he’d ever seen, above the bluest ocean he’d ever seen. To his right, there was a lush, green forest of palm trees and scrub grass. Beneath his feet was sand the color and consistency of sugar. Directly in front of him, he saw Gwen, standing alone, barefoot on the beach. Her hair was still cut in a cute bob, but exposure to the sun had bleached it a lighter brown than he remembered. She was wearing a hooded cloak of the same design as the one she’d worn when she lived in England , but this one was made of a light fabric more appropriate for protecting the wearer from the sun than from wind and rain. Beneath the cloak she wore a light, knee-length sundress. Her sandals hung by their loops from her fingers, but her hands were still unencumbered enough to execute a perfect slow-clap.
Phillip cried, “Gwen!” He dropped his suitcase and rushed forward, seizing Gwen in a bear hug.
“Phillip,” Gwen said. “It’s so good to see you.” As they hugged, Martin set down his suitcase and approached for his turn to say hello.
The hug finally ended, but rather than releasing Gwen, Phillip held her at arm’s length and looked her up and down. “Gwen, you look great.”
Martin silently agreed.
She thanked Phillip as he finally released his grip. Martin moved in for a hug of his own, but was stopped dead when Gwen offered him a handshake. With great effort, he shook her hand without any sign of disappointment.
“Gwen,” Martin said, “it’s great to see you.”
“You too, Martin. Clearly you got the bowl okay.”
“Oh yeah. Thanks for the Star Wars reference, by the way.”
Gwen smiled. “Don’t mention it.”
Phillip, now done greeting Gwen, had turned his attention to their surroundings. “Gwen, this is beautiful! Where are we?”
“This is an island a few miles off the coast of Greece. It’s the year 368 B.C., if you can believe it. Some of the other delegates were given transport coordinates directly into the city, but I wanted some time to say hello and explain a few things.” She started walking down the
Goodbyes were exchanged. Instructions were imparted. Stern warnings were leveled at Gary. It was time to go. Martin and Phillip stood side by side, staffs in one hand, suitcases in the other, and in unison said, “ Transporto unua Atlantis kunveno .”
Many, many years before, and many, many miles away, two figures materialized. It was impossible to identify them further because they were cloaked in shadow, despite the bright sun that shone overhead.
For a moment the incongruously shady duo stood motionless, then they were bathed in brilliant light, making it easy to identify them as Martin and Phillip. Phillip winced in the blinding light, shielding his eyes. Martin leapt into the air, much higher and more gracefully than he’d ever be able to without magical assistance . He executed a perfect roundhouse kick, a feat that was all the more impressive for his still holding his staff in one hand and his full suitcase in the other. At the apex of his jump, he froze, motionless in mid-air. As he hung there, the vista behind him was filled with images of explosions, blood-thirsty orcs, and what appeared to be a white Pontiac Fiero jumping a ravine. Both Martin and the tableau held their position behind Phillip for a moment, giving the intended audience the impression that they were looking at the poster for an action-packed buddy movie about a kung-fu wizard frequent-flyer and his straight-laced, confused partner. From somewhere, an electric guitar solo played, then the images of cheesy B-movie awesomeness disappeared . Martin landed on the opposite side of Phillip from where he’d started. With a carefully practiced air of nonchalance, Martin lifted his gaze to receive the audience’s reaction to their entrance.
Martin saw the bluest sky he’d ever seen, above the bluest ocean he’d ever seen. To his right, there was a lush, green forest of palm trees and scrub grass. Beneath his feet was sand the color and consistency of sugar. Directly in front of him, he saw Gwen, standing alone, barefoot on the beach. Her hair was still cut in a cute bob, but exposure to the sun had bleached it a lighter brown than he remembered. She was wearing a hooded cloak of the same design as the one she’d worn when she lived in England , but this one was made of a light fabric more appropriate for protecting the wearer from the sun than from wind and rain. Beneath the cloak she wore a light, knee-length sundress. Her sandals hung by their loops from her fingers, but her hands were still unencumbered enough to execute a perfect slow-clap.
Phillip cried, “Gwen!” He dropped his suitcase and rushed forward, seizing Gwen in a bear hug.
“Phillip,” Gwen said. “It’s so good to see you.” As they hugged, Martin set down his suitcase and approached for his turn to say hello.
The hug finally ended, but rather than releasing Gwen, Phillip held her at arm’s length and looked her up and down. “Gwen, you look great.”
Martin silently agreed.
She thanked Phillip as he finally released his grip. Martin moved in for a hug of his own, but was stopped dead when Gwen offered him a handshake. With great effort, he shook her hand without any sign of disappointment.
“Gwen,” Martin said, “it’s great to see you.”
“You too, Martin. Clearly you got the bowl okay.”
“Oh yeah. Thanks for the Star Wars reference, by the way.”
Gwen smiled. “Don’t mention it.”
Phillip, now done greeting Gwen, had turned his attention to their surroundings. “Gwen, this is beautiful! Where are we?”
“This is an island a few miles off the coast of Greece. It’s the year 368 B.C., if you can believe it. Some of the other delegates were given transport coordinates directly into the city, but I wanted some time to say hello and explain a few things.” She started walking down the
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