Chapter the Seventh of Part the Fourth
In which the narrative recounts acts from the life of Malcoomb Nordrench in World Drakkenfleiss.
Malcoomb awoke to the confused sound of music running through his mind. The last waking memory he could recall was a short musical figure that had knocked out his mind. The music that echoed in his mind upon awakening seemed to have restored him. Gradually, other memories returned, among them the announcement by the Premiere Master Magus Donanskorall that an errant magus was building up power without coordinating it with the master magi of Drakkenfleiss. He remembered the combat practice that followed and Dunsland’s inability to sing a reverse musical spell. That reminded Malcoomb of Tel Arman and Dunsland’s visit to him before the combat practice where he was injured. TeL Arman! He must be starving by this time! Malcoomb jumped up from his bed to go see him.
“You must be feeling correctly,” said a gentle feminine voice.
It was Master Healing Magus Mandora, sitting bathed in the blue light that filled the healing room.
“Yes,” said Malcoomb. “I feel I am ready to leave here.”
“Yes, you look ready to leave,” said Master Healing Magus Mandora. “Music Master Magus Hilfersdorner and Combat Master Magus Mossritch are re-working the musical spell so that next time you try it, you will not twist yourself out of shape.”
“Glad to hear it,” Malcoomb mumbled. “Thanks for the healing.”
“Most content to accomplish it for you,” said the Master Healing Magus.
Malcoomb teleported himself to the door to Tel Arman’s room and performed the spell to lift the lock. His first attempt did not succeed. Noting that he was panting and that his head was still woozy, Malcoomb impatiently gave himself a bit of time to gather his strength and then he opened the lock.
“I’ve come at last with the greatest imperial food—“
The words died on Malcoomb’s lips when he saw that the room was empty. An angry fingerful of fire devoured everything in the room. The gesture made Malcoomb Nordrench feel slightly better, but not much.
“Ungrateful traitor!” Malcoomb muttered under his breath.
One more angry blast destroyed the room altogether, blotting it out of existence.
“I’d love to see him beg me to take him back,” said Malcoomb to himself.
Convinced that Dunsland had found a way to kidnap Tel Arman, Malcoomb cast a location spell that took him to the library where Dunsland was studying a scroll. Without preliminaries, Malcoomb grabbed Dunsland by the collar of his robe and dragged him out of the library. A hard look into Dunsland’s face produced no trace of the smugness that Malcoomb would have expected of someone who had just swiped Malcoomb’s prisoner out from under him. Dunsland did appear, however, to be quite agitated and preoccupied about something.
“Where is Tel Arman?” Malcoomb asked through clenched teeth.
“Why should I tell you?” Dunsland asked.
Malcoomb shook Dunsland hard.
“Because I want to know where he is.”
“Why do you want to know where he is?”
Malcoomb let go of Dunsland’s robe.
“I was just wondering,” said Malcoomb, trying to sound casual.
“Are you worried about him?” Dunsland asked.
“Oh, not really,” said Malcoomb. “I suppose he’s in good hands.”
“That’s a nice way to treat the friend who healed you of the scrambled music spell you hit yourself with,” a girl interjected.
It was Gwendarin. Along with her, Morrass and Raissa also appeared, surrounding Malcoomb.
“What do you mean he healed me?” asked Malcoomb. “He’s the one who tried to kill Raissa and then twisted my mind with a music spell.”
“Dunsland healed both you and Raissa with the help of an army of boys who sang with him,” said Gwendarin.
“With singing boys?” asked Malcoomb, remembering that the music running through his head when he woke up was sung by a group of boys.
“We didn’t believe him when he said that taking you to that place called Merithwell was the thing to do,” said Morrass, “but we could see that Mandora wasn’t getting anywhere with either of you and she wasn’t about to admit it, and so, in desperation, we did it. It’s a good thing we did.”
“I dreamed of a bright sparkling room where boys sang to me and a girl held my hand,” said Raissa. “When I awoke, Gwendarin and Morrass told me my dream was true. I was really there.”
“You were—all of you—in Merithwell?” asked Malcoomb.
“Anything wrong with that?” asked Morrass.
“Uh—no,” said Malcoomb, knowing he wasn’t very convincing. “I didn’t know that girls could even get in there. I thought it was a boys’ singing tower.”
“We left the singing to the boys,” said Gwendarin. “Besides, we weren’t the only girls. A girl from another world came with her friends. She was a great healing presence.”
A flamingo puffed into existence in the middle of the student magi.
“Combat singing practice in the combat court immediately,” the flamingo announced and then it blinked out.
“Ah!” Gwendarin exclaimed. “Let’s see if we can learn the spells that will help us defend Merithwell.”
“What do you mean?” asked Malcoomb.
“Merithwell was attacked right after Polnar and Passenell were rescued,” Dunsland explained. “Danzigger’s master magus said it was somebody or something that did not like singing. I thought it might be the errant magi.”
“We can’t waste any more time getting to the combat court,” said Morrass, as he disappeared.
Malcoomb, his insides flaring over the news he had just received, was distressed with the longer blank period he experienced during his teleporting than he should have.
“Well!” exclaimed Music Master Magus Hilfersdorner as Malcoomb materialized in the combat pit. “It is good to see that you are all capable of assembling in this room a little faster than a herd of turtles with their back legs tied together.”
“Except for Malcoomb who needed a little extra time because of his delicate condition,” added Combat Master Magus Mossritch.
Several student magi snickered and Malcoomb wished he could vaporize them on the spot, but he took comfort in what he would soon be doing to the errant magi who were threatening Drakkenfleiss and all other worlds.
“Combat Master Magus Mossritch and I have worked out a new set of spells that will cause enchanted stones to disintegrate,” Music Master Magus Hilfersdorner announced. “Since the errant evil sorcerers are building a stone fortress, it behooves us to have spells that will tear it down quickly when we attack. The linchpin spell is a music healing reversal spell that I have contributed myself.”
Combat Master Magus Mossritch said a spell and a tall, thick stone wall appeared right behind him.
“We will practice our spells against this.”
Combat Master Magus Mossritch gave the student magi the words of the spell and told them how to gather their combat energy into their bellies and then shoot it out against the wall. For Malcoomb, the spell was almost too easy. His first attempt put a gaping hole in the wall that had everybody else gasping. After that, the other students worked to outdo Malcoomb and Malcoomb worked hard to keep ahead of the others. Perhaps it was thinking of the danger to Merithwell that did it, but Raissa, Morrass and Gwendarin were particularly hard on that wall. To Malcoomb’s delight, Dunsland’s spells failed to have any effect on the wall except, perhaps, to strengthen it again. It wasn’t long before the wall crumbled into dust.
“That is not bad for the first time,” said Combat Master Magus Mossritch. “I will give you a much harder wall next time. Just remember that the fortress the errant magi are building will be much stronger than the wall I just made for you. However, it is imperative that I know that the spells of Student Magus Dunsland, were not strong enough to lift as much as one particle of stone off the wall. If I had thought Student Magus Dunsland capable of it, I would have thought he had begun to have repaired the breach made by the competent student magi.
“Why should I destroy a wall with magic?” Dunsland asked in return.
Combat Master Magus Mossritch sent a black cloud out of his forehead.
“At the time of this great emergency, you must do your part to destroy the wall behind which the errant magi are hiding their dark and nefarious schemes if you wish to save the House of Dilworth and all other true Houses of the Magi of Drakkenfleiss,” said the Combat Master Magus.
“And that is what Student Magus Dunsland will do when it comes to applying my musical attack spell,” said Music Master Magus Hilfersdorner. “Please put up a new wall, Combat Master Magus Mossritch.” The Combat Master Magus snapped his fingers and a new stone wall appeared behind him. “Now listen carefully, Student Magus Dunsland, and be ready to sing it back.”
He sang a brief melody that almost made Malcoomb’s stomach disintegrate. Several stones fell out of the wall and Combat Master Magus Mossritch had to strengthen the wall. The other student magi also looked pale, or worse. Dunsland stood still, not opening his mouth.
“Will you please sing the spell?” Music Master Magus Hilfersdorner asked.
“I will not,” said Dunsland, his soft voice unnervingly firm.
“WHAT?”
“I think you heard me, Sir Music Master Magus,” said Dunsland, “and you did not like what you heard.”
“Student Magus Dunsland Dilworth,” Music Master Magus Hilfersdorner began, “the day has now passed when a student can play at magic and think of growing up later. We need every possible use of power and skill that every student and every senior magus can bring to dealing with this dire emergency that threatens our world and, quite possibly, all other worlds as well. Now, will you sing the spell?”
“I do not play with magic nor with music, Sir Music Master Magus,” said Dunsland, “and that is why I will not sing the spell you ask of me.”
Music Master Magus Hilfersdorner created a cloud as pink as his face and flung it at Dunsland’s knees, knocking the boy over.
“And why is that?”
Dunsland brought himself back to his feet and stood much more steadily than Malcoomb thought should possible for him under the circumstances.
“Music builds stones and it builds people. Music does not destroy them,” Dunsland replied.
“STUDENT MAGUS DUNSLAND! DO YOU WANT TO REMAIN IN THIS ACADEMY FOR AS MUCH AS ONE SECOND LONGER?” Combat Mast Magus Mossritch and Music Master Magus Hilfersdorner yelled in unison.
“That is for you to decide,” said Dunsland.
Combat Master Magus Mossritch turned himself into a slimy animal with whip chords for arms and Music Master Magus Hilfersdorner shot his pink cloud at Dunsland so that both creatures attacked Dunsland. Raissa appeared to be on the verge of sending some attack monsters to the master magi when they put a stop to the punishment. Somehow, the boy stayed on his feet throughout the punishment with only a tear or two appearing on his face.
“Student Magus Dunsland,” said the Combat Master Magus, “I strongly suggest that you decide to cooperate with your fellow student magi in this emergency that is facing us.”
“I will cooperate in whatever way is appropriate,” said the boy.
“What do you mean by that?”
“I mean what I said.”
“We will have to discuss this matter instantly with Premiere Master Magus Donanskorall,” said Combat Master Magus Mossritch. “Class dismissed.”
Both Master Magi turned themselves into black clouds and disappeared, leaving a dazed group of student magi behind. Dunsland wobbled on his feet and fell over. Several student magi were instantly on top of him.
“Do you need a healing spell?” Gwendarin asked him.
“Uh—I guess so.”
“Let me heal you,” Mossritch offered.
“Let me heal you,” said Raissa.
So many students gathered around Dunsland to cast healing spells for him that Malcoomb was shamed into joining them, or at least seeming to. He was tempted to cast a counter spell but he knew that if he was caught at it, Dunsland would become even more popular at his expense, and so he had to content himself with doing very little while the other children generously poured their healing energy into Dunsland.
“I don’t think any student has stood up to either Hilfersdorner or Mossritch like that,” said an older boy. “How did you do it?”
“I just did it,” said Dunsland.
Malcoomb’s himself was wondering how Dunsland did it. Something had given the Dunsland a lot more confidence than he had the day he landed crookedly with his dragon. Malcoomb’s guess was that the other boys in Merithwell were responsible.
“I think you saved our lives by not trying to sing the music attack spell,” said Raissa.
“I know I saved your lives by not trying to sing the music attack spell,” said Dunsland.
Later, in the common room for the student magi, Malcoomb watched helplessly as Dunsland was treated as the greatest hero in the Drakkenfleiss Academy. One girl conjured a white fluffy owl as a pet for Dunsland while other girls concocted their favorite dishes for a boy who had been starving on the meager rations Malcoomb gave him in payment for taking him to Merithwell. With rising panic, Malcoomb realized that unless Dunsland’s sudden popularity was reversed, Dunsland would have no need of anything from Malcoomb and Malcoomb’s bargaining power would drop to zero. There was only one way of turning things around that he could think of.
“Dunsland,” said Malcoomb.
“Do you want something from me?” Dunsland asked with transparent sarcasm that already had students turning against Malcoomb.
“I was just wondering how talking back to the Master Magi is going to help us battle the errant magi who are threatening us.”
“You can wonder all you want to about that,” said Dunsland.
To Malcoomb’s dismay, several students laughed.
“But don’t you see that this is serious business?” Malcoomb persisted. “This is the biggest threat to our world since Drakkenfleiss was created!”
“Yes,” said Dunsland, suddenly looking very sober. “I am sure that any battle fought by the Master Magi will be very serious business.”
“And why do you refuse to help? If you’re as good a singer as you think you are, you should be able to do something.”
“I can do several somethings,” said Dunsland, “but you know for yourself that music resists reversal spells.”
“But it’s the simplest thing in the world to sing a tune backwards!”
“Singing a tune backwards is simple as long as singing it backwards makes it another forward moving tune,” said Dunsland.
Now Dunsland had all the students laughing at Malcoomb. Only then did Malcoomb realize that in his preoccupation with Dunsland, he had neglected to make any real friends with other students.
“Would you like to sing us a song?” asked Raissa as she pulled a guitar out of thin air, “I’ll accompany you on this.”
“Sure,” said Dunsland.
Dunsland sang a song about the West Wind where, in the second verse, heaven and earth were filled with somebody’s glory. There was no question that Dunsland was singing what Tel Arman called rebel music. Music of this sort could never help the Master Magi overcome the errant magi who were threatening the worlds. And where was Tel Arman? How did he escape? Was it true that Dunsland was the one who healed him of the music scramble caused by his trying to sing Music Master Hilfersdorner’s spell? Did Dunsland really heal Raissa in Merithwell? If Dunsland was responsible for his healing, than Malcoomb had to find a way to take over Merithwell and turn its magic against his enemy. When Malcoomb realized that the song Dunsland was singing was weakening his resolve to take over Merithwell and use it as a base for destroying the errant magi and winning glory for himself and his family, Malcoomb concluded that he had no choice but to follow through with a risky and desperate plan.
Proceed to Chapter the First of Part the Fifth