The Last Wizard of Eneri Clare Read Free Page A

old wizard said. “They are gone.”

TWO
Twelve Years Later
    T HIS PART OF THE ANCIENT forest was so remote, so untouched, so close to the heart of the Great Woods, that tree fairies and water sprites still played openly in the changing light. They were rarely seen in the inhabited lands, edged out by civilization and harassed by the curious and the cruel alike. But here was deep quiet and security. Here an intruder rarely stepped, and the little naïve nymphs delighted in their daily games without even the thought of being alert or cautious. Only one of them noticed the tall stranger, hooded and cloaked, approaching the waterfall with silent tread. Her name was Ondine, and she was by nature more curious than most – more aware, it seemed, of a greater landscape beyond the confines of her tiny world, and of the dramas that might play out there.
    She paused in her pirouette and regarded the man. Old he seemed, like the trees she knew or the stone shelf on which her waterfall splashed. Old, but strong, like those things. The part of his face she could see was lined, she couldn’t tell from laughter or care, or maybe both. As he approached, he tossed back his hood, and she noted the full mane of pure white hair, the slightly beaky nose, and eyes as deep as the pools below in which she made her home. Dark eyes, into which one could fall and be lost…. She shrank back in terror as he leaned into the streaming water inches from where she hovered, sure she would be discovered. And yet, she could smell no aroma of malevolence about him, no cruelty or darkness. Only a deep sadness that hung all around him, and perhaps …yes…a whiff of urgency. Ondine darted behind a nearby leaf as the man splashed his face with sweet, cool water, and filled his large hands with its goodness to quench his thirst.
    He ran those hands over his face and hair, as if smoothing away disturbing thoughts, and then, replacing the hood, backed away from the falls and picked up a gnarled walking stick. Ondine could not take her eyes off of the stranger as he strode away between the ancient trees. Just before he turned the corner following the cliff face, she started, as he momentarily winked out of existence completely! The little nymph gasped, blinked…but no. There he was after all, heading around the bend. Ondine furrowed her tiny brow. She must have imagined it. But how, when she had not even shifted her gaze for an instant? All around her the rush of the water, the music of birdsong, and the laughter of her sister naiads combined in a natural symphony. The sunlight filtered down in warm patches that described a perfect, lovely spring day. And Ondine shivered as she sensed to the depths of her core that nothing would ever be the same again.

    There was no mistaking that waterfall. It was exactly as it had been described to him – idyllic, powerful, and sonorous in its rush over the rock face, three times the height of a tall man, and broad. Swollen now with early spring thaws, it formed a sparkling curtain over the cliff-side on its journey to the wide pools below, and eventually into the stream that carried its waters away to far-off realms. Surrounded by supple young birches and scented flowering vines, it passed the day in a sort of filtered green haze, interrupted by rainbows, where patchy sunlight shone through droplets bouncing off the rocks below. Only a few moments in this place, and the rhythmic falling waters, the colorful lights and sweet fragrances, the warm sun on one’s face would wash away burdens, soothe tired muscles, and lull troubled dreams to sleep. “Perfect,” the old man muttered to no one in particular, “the perfect place to escape, or to hide.”
    He splashed his face with the welcome coolness, and drank his fill of the sweet water before picking up his walking stick and continuing on his way. It could not be far now. His source had said to follow the cliff’s edge around behind the falls, and then to bear right through