Free A Wizard's Tears by Craig Gilbert

“I, and others of my brethren, can transform objects, including flesh, into something else. However, to alter my fist, say, from a solid to a nontangible state and back again, at will , is a feat I cannot match.”
Nagoth shifted his feet nervously.
The mage continued. “You have done well to seek me out, Norfel. This is a grave matter. I dare not confront this strange conjuror alone. We must make all haste to reach Malana by nightfall. I will arrange counsel with Suralubus, our leader. We will then decide on a course of action. Please accompany us. I will require you to tell your story in Malana.”
“Thank you,” Nagoth stammered. “I had planned to travel south of this road, then across the woods to the edge of Malana. Norfel are best not seen to the human eye, and I sought shelter within the trees. I will go with you – none would worry about a Norfel in a mage’s custody.”
“Indeed. You will have to sit with the others in the carriage. There’s no other place.” The mage nodded his head meaningfully at Corg. “Will this be a problem to you?”
Nagoth looked at the Bu’kep warily. “I will keep out of his way if he will grant me the same courtesy.”
Satisfied, the mage departed to prepare his horse for the journey. He walked past the others just as they pushed the tent fabric into the back of the carriage. “Provide room in the carriage for the Norfel. He has an urgent need to travel to Malana, and now so do us all. I will not stop at Roth tonight – we carry on through the night until we reach the city.”
This news was greeted harshly by two: Corg, because he had to share a carriage with a Norfel, and Yvanna, who complained bitterly to the mage about the long journey. She desperately wanted to stay in the comfort of the tavern at Roth, especially as they had got no sleep the previous night. Hers and the juggler’s concerns were ignored.
Keldoran was more pragmatic. He had seen the wild eyed fear in the Norfel. “What is happening in the wood?” he asked the mage. There must be some reason for the urgent rush to the city.
The mage turned to look at him, a glint of respect shown in his eyes for the young man. Keldoran flushed with pride. “A stranger, a wizard of some sorts, has murdered several of the Norfel’s race. He is not one of our brethren. The Norfel also claimed to have seen and captured a Slardinian, a lizard man from the south continent of Tegul. These facts cannot be ignored – both are strangers not wanted here in Emorthos. I must seek assistance with the council in Malana.”
Keldoran nodded acceptance, his eyes wide at the news. Corg and Yvanna exchanged looks, suitably cowed. Relb looked confused and worried.
“We ride,” said the mage. “Be alert. With luck, we will reach Malana by dawn.” The matter settled, the mage slipped an apple to his horse, which grunted and devoured it in one bite. He then climbed gracefully onto his steed.
The others stood for a moment, suddenly fearful, before clambering onto the carriage. The Norfel followed silently behind, sitting as far away from Corg as possible, although the inside of the carriage was indeed cramped with the five of them. The juggler refused to even acknowledge Nagoth’s presence.
Keldoran sensed the tension in the carriage, but he could feel the land of Elrohen waking outside. As they burst into motion, the carriage rocking to and fro on the bumpy road, he looked out at the trees. There was not longer any doubt in his mind.
They were swaying.
    Vergail walked down the wide, flowing marble steps outside the front of Malana’s cathedral. She stopped momentarily to raise her hand to her forehead, a delicate move to shield her eyes from the burst of sunshine she had received on leaving the cool, dark corridors of the cathedral, where her inner sanctum and quarters resided.
    It was a perfect morning, she decided, the faint glimmer of a smile playing on her lips. From the top of the cathedral steps she could see most of the city