Chapter 8

            It took Isadora almost an hour to get back to camp, where she found Lynard still sitting in the same spot.  He turned as she approached, nodding at her as she joined him at the fire.

            “It went well,” he said, as she took the sword scabbard off her back and set it on the ground beside her.

            “Yes, we are now bonded.  I’m not sure exactly what that means, but it’s done.”

            “I could explain it to you, if you like.”

            “If you would, I would welcome it.  I would hate to accidentally kill something or blow something up.”

            Lynard chuckled.  “Your sword and you are bound until you are killed,” he started, “Which means as long as you are alive, most people would be unable to use it except in the most basic ways.”

            “Most?”

            “There are a few very powerful spells which wizards could use to draw the sword’s power, but those are quite rare.”

            “But could be a danger.”

            “Yes, so you should be careful.  In addition to having control of your sword’s power, you also have the ability to call your sword to you at any moment.  Let me show you.”  With that, Lynard rose from his seat and approached her.  “May I see your sword?”

            Isadora nodded and handed it up to him.  He walked a few feet away, then turned back to her.  “Now,” he said, “Will your sword to come back to you.”

            She concentrated for a moment, calling to her sword.  Kayleigh, come to me.  Come to me…Come to me…

            Nothing happened.  She stopped and said, “It didn’t work.”

            “Don’t try to call it to you; will it to you,” Lynard said.

            This time, she didn’t call to her sword in her mind.  She pictured the sword disappearing form Lynard’s hand and reappearing in hers…and it did.  It shimmered briefly, and appeared in her hand.

            “Very good,” Lynard said.  “You seem to have the hang of that.  You can also do it if you can’t see your sword, and only the most powerful will be able to block that link.”

            Isadora nodded, then said, “You said I would have access to my sword’s powers.  What powers?”

            “I’m not sure.  Each magical weapon is slightly different.  Since yours appears to have a consciousness, why don’t you ask it?”

            She nodded then said to her sword, “Ok, what can you do?”

            Isadora could hear Kayleigh chuckle and then she said, I wondered when you would get to that.  I have several abilities, some offensive and some defensive.  One defense you’ve already seen is I can hear unguarded surface thoughts.  Mostly I use this to know who’s around me.  However, a guarded or well-disciplined mind will slip past me.  Another defensive capability I have is the ability to teleport, not only myself but you as well.  If you are in danger and need to get out, I can teleport us away.  However, I can only teleport a couple long legs, and I have no way of knowing what I’m teleporting into.  So you should be careful when you use that power.

            “What about offensive powers?”

            Well, Kayleigh said, I cannot be broken.  Also, my blade will remain absolutely sharp.  So no matter what happens, unless you come upon a weapon with similar characteristics or something magically strengthened, I can cut through anything as long as you have the strength to push me through.  With your new strength, you could easily cut through solid steel, and most armor and conventional weapons won’t be able to stop me.  Also, I can shoot both fire and ice, though not at the same time.  But my main power is an ability to change, and this is the power for which people will want me.  My only limits as far as this goes are the laws set down by the Gods, and the boundaries of your own imagination.

            “What limitations?” Isadora asked.

            I can’t make something living into something not living.  That would violate the laws of the Gods.  I can change something not living into a living thing, however.  I can also change the makeup of things.  For instance, I could turn water to wood, or air to diamonds.

            “Will this also work in living things?”

            You see immediately to the heart of the matter, and also into the largest danger.  Yes, it does work in living things.  I can cause a man’s heart to turn to stone, or his blood to turn to acid.  It is merely in the imagination of my holder.  If I were to fall into the wrong hands, I could be forced to turn a few square longlegs into a pool of molten rock, or turn several thousand people’s organs to stone.  Isadora could almost feel Kayleigh shudder at the thought.  I don’t know my limitations, but I’m quite sure that I don’t want to find out.  It also brings me to my final power.

            Isadora could tell that Kayleigh was hesitant to mention her final power, but had to ask.  “What is your final power?”

            My final power, Kayleigh began, is the one that I never want to use.  It is the power to self-destruct.

            “Self-destruct?  I thought you couldn’t be destroyed?” Kayleigh said, confused.

            In times of greatest need, as the last resort, I can destroy myself.  The explosion would absolutely obliterate an area nearly ten leagues in diameter.  If this were to happen in Hertha, or Dolar, it would absolutely destroy the city, and everything in it.

            The implication of it struck her like a hammer.  Her sword, only a stone or so in weight, had enough destructive capability to destroy the largest cities in the world.  She sat down hard, and Lynard looked at her for a moment.

            “I take it one of your sword’s powers was rather shocking?”

            “Yes.  If it self-destructs, the explosion would be big enough to destroy an enormous chunk of land…” She faltered at this point, and looked at her sword, which was now sitting in her lap.

            “And if it happened in a major city, it would decimate the population,” Lynard said.

            Isadora looked up at Lynard sharply, to which he chuckled humorlessly.  “Three hundred years gives you a fair perspective of power.”

            “Forgive me, I meant no offense,” Isadora said.

            “None taken.  You haven’t had much experience with my kind, and so when you look at us, all you see is an animal.”

            Isadora looked sheepishly at Lynard, who merely laughed.

            “What else can it do?” he asked, to change the subject.

            “It has quite a few other powers; for one, it can’t be broken.”

            “That is a useful advantage,” Lynard said appreciatively.

            “It can also change things,” Isadora stated after a moment of hesitation.

            “Change things?”

            Isadora asked Kayleigh, “How do I enact your changing power?”

            Merely concentrate on what you want, and it will happen.  Like summoning me, you need only will it to happen and it will happen.

            Isadora drew her sword and pointed it at a small stone near the fire.  Concentrating briefly, the stone shimmered and changed into a diamond.  Lynard gasped as he saw the transformation, then gasped again when she changed it back.

            “By the Gods!” he exclaimed.

            Isadora nodded and sat down again.  “Now you understand why I was shocked…why I’m still shocked.  This is too much power for one person to hold.”
            “Your sword chose you for a reason,” Lynard began, “If it didn’t think you could be trusted, it would not have allowed you to bond with it.”

            Suddenly, a howl broke through the night.

            “The pack has found something,” Lynard said, instantly changing to his hybrid wolf form.  A series of short, bark-like howls emanated from his mouth, and two other werewolves emerged into the firelight.

            “Lucia.  Georyn.  What is happening?” Lynard asked calmly.

            “Someone managed to infiltrate the rest of the pack, and when Arvel tried to stop him he was killed.  The rest of the pack is moving into position to attack him.  But he has powerful magic, father.  He killed Arvel with fire he called out of thin air.”

            “Warn the pack to be careful.  He is probably after the sword, and won’t stop till he gets it.  If it appears that you might be in trouble, I want all of you to retreat.  We will meet up in our home range in three weeks time if it becomes necessary to scatter.  Now go; avenge the death of Arvel.”

            Isadora and Lynard waited in tense silence for several moments before the sounds of battle could be heard.  It was a fair distance off, but immediately it was apparent that the werewolves were being slaughtered.  The anger coming off Lynard was almost palpable as he realized that his pack was being decimated, and Isadora prepared herself for battle.  An explosion was heard, making both jump, and then all was silent.

            Several moments passed, and just as Lynard and Isadora were about to go investigate what happened, a figure stepped out of the treeline.  It was a very tall, very slim humanoid, but its race or features could not be determined because of the voluminous cloak and hood it wore.

            It said nothing for several seconds, and then in a very rough, gravelly voice, it said, “I am here for the sword.  Give it to me and no others have to die.”

            “Who are you?” Isadora demanded.

            “I am no one to be trifled with.  I want the sword.  Now.”

            As she had been trained to do, Isadora judged her opponent.  The cloak gave away no information about the creature inside, but there were a few things she could discern.  The lack of visible weapons wasn’t a major comfort, as she herself had a dozen hidden on her person, so she really didn’t have much information on her opponent.  However, she had other means of intelligence gathering.

            “Kayleigh, what’s he thinking?”

            He’s supremely confident, Kayleigh said into Isadora’s mind.  He thinks he can just incinerate us and take the sword.

            “A mage, then?”

            It would appear that he is a sorcerer.  He isn’t thinking about any kind of spell, just about incinerating us.  He hasn’t thought about any other way of fighting.  Not that it really matters.

            “Fire is a rather effective tool when used properly.”

            It would be if you could be hurt by fire.

            “So what do we do…wait, I can’t be hurt by fire?”

            Kayleigh chuckled.  No, you can’t.  I figured that you wouldn’t be able to use my full power with fire unless you couldn’t be harmed by it.  Since I can change things, I changed you.  It will take some getting used to, since you’re still psychologically afraid of it, but you’ll adjust.

            “Is that the only way he can attack us?”

            No, but it is the way he’ll try first, so it will give you a moment to incapacitate him.

            “Can you change Lynard without him knowing it?”

            No, since you would have to take me out of my scabbard.  However, once you’re done with this sorcerer, you can do what you have in mind.

            Isadora took stock of the man again.  The fact that he was a sorcerer said a lot about him, and gave her all the clues she needed to extract a victory from this situation.  Sorcerers were merely elementalists that had, through years of study, managed to control more than one element.  Judging by what this man was thinking, she guessed that he could control fire and air.  That could be a potentially dangerous combination, but most sorcerers couldn’t manage more than just a mediocre amount of control over their secondary element.  Only a few of the most powerful had access to more than two elements, and she hoped he wasn’t one of these.  She rather doubted it; sorcerers weren’t as a whole a bad lot, but like any other society, there were rogue members.  She decided to roll the dice.

            “Lynard,” she said aloud, “Go on.  I’ll take care of this insect.”

            “No,” Lynard growled, “He has killed members of my pack.  He must die.”

            Isadora, in an act of uncharacteristic gentleness, turned to Lynard and said very quietly, so only he could hear, “Lynard, the punishment I have in mind for him is much worse than that.  I can’t do what I need to do with you here.  You’ll only get killed.  There’s no time to explain now.”

            “No, he must die,” Lynard said stubbornly.

            “You must leave,” she almost pleaded, then to Kayleigh, “Can you teleport him a longleg away?  That should give me time to take care of the sorcerer.”

            Almost before she had finished speaking, Lynard disappeared.  The sorcerer gasped, but realized that his quarry was still before him.  Isadora was a little sad at having to do it that way, but she needed him gone.  She would apologize when he got back.  She heard a very infuriated howl coming from Lynard, and knew he would be back any minute.  She knew she had a few minutes to deal with the sorcerer, and she intended to.

            “Your friend has fled,” the sorcerer said, not realizing the truth, “You are mine.  Give me the sword and you won’t be hurt.”

            Isadora could detect the lie in his words, and decided to toy with him.  “If you want it, come and get it,” she said, drawing the sword from her back.

            The sorcerer wasted no time.  In front of him, a huge ball of fire appeared out of thin air and soared through the expanse of air between them and hit Isadora in the chest, completely engulfing her in flames.  True to Kayleigh’s word, the fire did not burn her.  She waited for a few moments, and then she willed the fire to go out.  She felt Kayleigh get a little warm, and the fire disappeared.  She realized offhandedly that that while she was immune to the fire, her clothes were not, and she was standing there naked as the day she was born.  The only thing that survived were two of her concealed weapon sheaths, her daggers, the scabbard, and the sword in her hands.  Several of the daggers fell to the ground, but she grabbed one from her relatively undamaged thigh holster and flung it at the sorcerer.  It spun end over end, and before he could get over the shock of seeing her survive his fireball, it hit him hilt first between the eyes and he dropped like a stone.

            Isadora wasted no time in running over to him, and after making sure he was unconscious, held her sword over him in both hands.  “Kayleigh, can you change him so he doesn’t have access to his powers?”

            Yes.  Are you sure you want to do this?

            “Yes.  For the deaths in Lynard’s pack and for what he tried to do to me, he deserves it.  Lynard wants to kill him.  I want him to learn from his ways, and he can’t do that if he’s dead.

            Very well.  I thought it might be your anger talking, which is why I asked.  Decisions made in anger are usually wrong, but I can see you’ve already thought it out.

            “Anger in my former profession gets someone killed.  I learned to control it years ago.”

            Indeed.

            With that, Kayleigh began to glow a soft blue color, and a gentle humming could be heard from the sword.  Isadora watched in fascination as the body of the unconscious sorcerer started to glow blue as well, and abruptly stopped.

            It is done.  He won’t realize it at first, so be prepared.  Once he realizes that he can’t do anything, I dare say he’ll be quite plaint.

            At that moment, Lynard burst through the underbrush at the edge of the clearing.  One look at him, and Isadora was alarmed.  He was frothing at the mouth and enraged to a point that she had never seen.  She wondered for a moment if he was actually in possession of his mind.

            “Lynard?” she asked.

            Lynard snapped his head to look across at her.  His eyes were shining a bright yellow color, and for a moment she was looking death in the face.  The color gradually drained from his face, though he still looked angry.

            “Explain,” he said shortly, clearly angry with her.

            “He was a sorcerer,” she started, “with access to fire and air.  I am, since my bonding, immune to fire now.  I didn’t know if you were or not, but I wasn’t going to take the chance.  So I had Kayleigh teleport you away.”

            Lynard visibly shook as he tried to contain his anger.  “You fool woman,” he said, “I’m a druid.  I could’ve stopped his powers from doing anything.”

            Isadora stared at him for a moment and said, “I didn’t know, and there wasn’t time to talk about it.”

            “I realize that now.  Now, explain to me why you’re standing there naked with just that sword on your back.”

            Isadora chuckled, “I may be fireproof, but my clothes weren’t.”

            Lynard laughed and seemed to relax a little.  He made a slight gesture, and clothes appeared on the ground in front of Isadora.  As she quickly put them on, Lynard looked past her and saw the body of the sorcerer starting to stir.  He flexed his paws and started toward him, obviously intending to kill the man.  Isadora stepped in front of him, and stopped him.

            “He is no longer a danger, to anyone.  I’ve taken his powers from him.”

            Lynard looked shocked for a moment then said, “I didn’t know that was possible.”

            “The power to change, remember?”

            “There are no limits?” he asked.

            “A few,” Isadora said, then turned as the sorcerer groggily sat up.  He was human with short black hair and sunken green eyes and pallid skin.  She watched as a look of concentration passed over his face, then shock.  He looked up at her in shock then, attempting to scramble away.

            “It’s gone,” she said.  “You are no longer a sorcerer.  If you tell us what we want to know, we’ll let you live.”

            A horrified look came over his face, and he shook his head quite vigorously.  Isadora knew he wouldn’t be a problem.

            “First, how many werewolves are alive?” Isadora started, fingering one of her daggers absently.  It was a little extreme, but she wanted absolute cooperation, and the threat of retaliation was a powerful motivator.

            “I…I’m not sure,” he started, “I think a few made it away from the blast.”  He cast a terrified glance at Lynard then, as Lynard cracked his knuckles and growled.

            “Lynard, see to your pack.  I’ll get as much information as I can from him until you get back.”

            Lynard nodded once, then loped off into the forest.  Isadora heard a series of barks, and then she turned back to her captive.

            “Now, did anyone send you?”

            “N…No,” he said very hesitantly.

            “That doesn’t sound very convincing,” Isadora said, “Maybe I should call Lynard back.”

            “No!  I wasn’t sent here, but I was sent this direction.  I’m supposed to find some assassin and kill him.”

            “Who were you supposed to kill, and why were you sent to kill him?”

            “I don’t know,” the man replied, “Just that he would be alone and on horseback.  But I felt the power of the bonding, and decided that I would come take a look and capture it if I could.  I thought that I could use the weapon later on.”

            Isadora thought about this for a few moments.  She thought that this assassin he was supposed to be after was herself, even though the former elementalist said it was a he.  Either that, or there was another assassin out here.  In which case, she would have to be extremely careful.

            She was about to ask another question to her captive when a slight rustling of the leaves told her that someone was coming.  She faced the sound, only to find Lynard carrying an unconscious female werewolf in his hands.  The female was burned badly all over her body, but seemed to be breathing.  As she watched, she could see the badly charred skin slowly starting to lose its ashen color and turning to a pale pink, then finally to white.  It was a very slow process, but it looked like the female was healing.

            “She’ll live,” Lynard said without preamble.

            “One of yours?”

            “My daughter.  She and Georyn were the only survivors.  Georyn wasn’t badly injured, so I had him start to bury those that there was anything left to bury.  He should be back in an hour or so…there wasn’t much left,” Lynard lowered his head as he said the last bit, and Isadora could tell that he was crying.

            “I’m sorry, Lynard.  What will you do now?”

            “I don’t know,” Lynard began, “I need to make sure that Lucia is alright before I make any decisions.”

            “Well, let us rest until morning.  Then we can make a decision.  As for you,” she said, turning to the captive, “I would suggest you start to run.  I can keep Lynard from killing you here in camp, but when you leave you’re on your own.  Since you have no elementalist powers any more, you probably wouldn’t last ten seconds against Lynard.”

            The former elementalist took one look at Lynard and Isadora, and then bolted through the trees.  Isadora chuckled when she heard him fall only to scramble back up and keep running.  As she turned, she saw Lynard lay Lucia on the ground near the fire gently, and then stand up.  He started to walk calmly in the direction the former elementalist had run, obviously intending to track him down and kill him.  Isadora put up a hand to stop him, and he glared at her.

            “Let him be,” she said.  “He can’t hurt anybody any more.  Justice has been done.”

            “Justice?” Lynard yelled angrily.  “He killed thirteen werewolves!  My pack!  He must die for that.”

            “He will,” she said cryptically.  “Do you know what happens when a magician loses his powers?”

            “No,” Lynard said, losing some of his ire.  “I didn’t think elementalists lose their powers.”

            “I’ve never heard of an elementalist doing it before, but I’ve heard of wizards losing theirs.”

            “What happened to them?”

            “They gradually go crazy,” she said bluntly, “The loss of something so integral to their very being is something that few can overcome.  I once read about a wizard that lost his powers.  They put him in the Academy and studied him, trying to figure out what happened.  Eventually it was discovered that a spell had backfired on him, but they were never able to reverse the effect.  Gradually, the study turned into a documentation of his descent into madness.  It was quite shocking to read it.”

            “And this is what is going to happen to him?” Lynard asked, meaning the former elementalist.

            “I believe so.  Since elemental powers are something that you are born with, I imagine it would be like a warrior losing his arms, or a runner losing his legs.  He can’t do his job any more, so he becomes a nothing.  For someone who used to wield power, the sudden loss of power is something that they never recover from.  Many warriors that become so injured that they can’t fight any longer choose to die rather than live as half a person.”

            Lynard was shocked at this revelation.  He’d heard of warriors doing this, of course, but he’d never thought that a magician would be the same way.  He suddenly realized the impact of the punishment she’d handed down to the former elementalist.

            “Exactly,” Isadora said after seeing the look on Lynard’s face.  She laid a gentle hand on his shoulder, and then said, “Let him be.  He will suffer worse than you could ever make him, and he will always remember that it was his actions that caused his problem.  Isn’t that punishment enough?”

            Lynard shook for a moment, and then turned back to his daughter.  He looked back and forth for a moment, debating on what to do, but Isadora tightened her grip on his shoulder.  He turned and looked into her eyes, and saw the pain that it caused her to do what she had done, and also the pain that she was causing him for not being able to vent his anger.  He relaxed, and then nodded his head at her.  She squeezed his shoulder one more time in support, then walked to her saddlebags and started to dig out something to eat.  As she walked away from him, she could hear his tears start again, as he went back to sit by his daughter.