By Rick Cook
Desktop programmer extraordinaire "Wiz" Zumwalt, the fellow who mastered magic, has been taken prisoner by way of the dragons, who call for a bit of the paranormal motion. What's a Wiz to do?
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Extra resources for The Wizardry Consulted (Wiz, Book 4)
And, of course, this close to the river there was always the risk of raiders. The rival kingdoms of Langmyr and Oakharn stared hard at each other across the Seivern River. There was no love lost on either side; there hadn’t been for a hundred years, since Uvarric’s Folly. Both lands traced their heritage back to the ruined glory of Rhaelyand, both worshipped under the Bright Lady’s pillared domes, and yet Langmyrne and Oakharne hated each other with the ferocity of estranged brothers. One could never be sure when a group from one side might cross over to visit bloody horror on the other.
It was the wrong time of year: professional soldiers would be hard in training for the Swordsday matches, and farmers would be busy with the harvest. More importantly, it sounded like only one person was rustling through the leaves, and no raider in his right mind crossed the border alone. ” Odosse called, keeping her walking stick raised. The rustling stopped. A man’s voice answered, sounding tired and, she thought, a little angry. His accent marked him as a stranger; from where, she could not say.
And grief. He’d had friends back there, as much as he’d ever had friends, and he’d done nothing to save them. There’d been nothing he could do, but that truth never went down easy no matter how many times he had to swallow it. Night descended. Brys kept walking. There was a long road ahead. 2 There had never been a lovelier day in the world, Odosse decided as she walked back to Willowfield. The autumn afternoon was crisp but pleasant. Sunlight lancing through the leaves of ash and maple turned the forest into a cathedral of gold and crimson; she felt grand as a queen beneath such glory.