The Horn of Moran

At the top of the second set of stairs, Alex found himself in the upper library of the Tower of the Moon, surrounded by shelves, tables, and thousands of books. He quickly reached for his magic bag, holding it out toward the center of the room.

“Treasure room,” Alex said loudly.

With a sound like rushing wind, the entire library disappeared into his bag. Only one thing remained, and it was something Alex had not noticed when he’d first entered the room. He moved closer, looking at the strange object in wonder.

Against the back wall a single stone table remained and hovering just above the tabletop was a bright silver flame. The flames moved like a living thing, but Alex didn’t feel any heat coming from them. For a few minutes he stood looking at the flames, and a strange desire to reach out and touch the silver fire filled his mind.

“Take it,” a voice whispered to him. “Take the power and become the master.”

Before he knew what he was doing, Alex reached out his hand toward the flame. Alarm bells rang wildly inside his head, warning him to stop, but his hand continued to move forward.

“A wizard born in Norsland must come,” another voice yelled inside his head. “Only a wizard born in Norsland can take this power.”

Alex’s hand stopped moving, his fingers slowly curling into a fist. Cara had told him about the legend of the tower, about a wizard who would come to save his people. Alex knew he could touch the flame and become the master of all the magic in Norsland, but then the legend would fail. Worse, if he took the power, he would have to remain as the guardian of the tower for as long as he lived.

“No,” Alex said softly. “This is not for me. Another will come to guard this power.”

“Wise. Very wise,” a deep voice answered.

Alex spun around at the sound of the voice.

A ghostly image of a man moved across the empty room, stopping a few feet from Alex. “I am sorry you had to be tested like that,” he said. “All who enter the tower must face the test of the flame, but you are the first to ever pass the test.”

“Who are you?”

“I am Garson,” the ghost answered. “I was the last guardian of the tower. Now I wait to pass on the knowledge I have and the secrets I have kept to the new guardian.”

“I am Alexander Taylor,” Alex said.

“You are a wizard and an adventurer.” Garson nodded. “You have come here looking for the Horn of Moran. Yes, I know. I can see your power, and I am glad you have come. The Horn is with the treasure of the tower, but it does not belong here. It must be returned to Alusia.”

“Yes,” said Alex. “The Horn is needed to prove the true king of Athanor.”

“Oh, it will do much more than that,” said Garson. “The Horn is one of three guardian objects that bind the people of Alusia together. It is the simplest of the three, and the only one that could be taken from the land. But simple or not, it is part of Alusia, and it must be returned. It has only been here for a short time, but already Alusia is breaking apart. The Horn will help unite the people once more.”

“If the Horn is so important, why was the prince allowed to take it from Alusia? Why bring it here?”

“The people have forgotten what the Horn is,” Garson answered sadly.

“What happened to the prince?” Alex questioned. “And to the adventurers who were with him?”

“The men who came here with the Horn were adventurers, but not wizards. They felt the same desire you did to touch the flame, but they were not wise enough to see that the power was not free for the taking. They failed the test and were destroyed. I am sorry that it happened, but I could not stop it.”

“I have destroyed the lower library of the tower,” Alex said after a moment of silence. “I have taken the upper library and put it in my bag. I will not restore the lower library, but I should leave the upper library here.”

“The tower is more than libraries and treasure,” Garson replied with a wave of his ghostly hand. “Libraries can be replaced. Take what you have won and learn from it. Take the treasure in the room below as a reward; the Horn you seek is with the treasure. I ask only that you leave some token of yourself behind to mark you as a friend of the tower. Perhaps someday you will return, and if you are a friend of the tower, the guardians will allow you free access.”

“Thank you,” said Alex. “I am sorry I ca

“You have other reasons to hurry,” said Garson. “There is a storm brewing. Winter is closing in; I do not think you will be able to outrun it.”

“We can’t wait for winter to pass,” Alex said in a worried tone. “We have to get back to Alusia before the spring festival or else there will be war.”

“The storms that are coming ca

“That is something,” said Alex, thinking of the ghost’s words.

“Little things often make the biggest difference,” Garson said softly as his image started to fade. “You should go. Move as quickly as you can, young wizard. Time is ru

The ghost vanished before Alex could reply. Without waiting, Alex hurried back down the stairs to the chamber full of treasure. He knew the Horn was here, somewhere, but Garson was right, he didn’t have time to look for it.

“Treasure room, separate,” said Alex, hoping the bag would understand what he wanted it to do.

Once again there was the sound of rushing wind as the air rippled and sparked. When the chamber was emptied, Alex shifted his bag to his shoulder. He took a single gold coin from his moneybag. With a little effort, he changed the appearance of the coin in his hand. Tossing the coin toward the center of the empty treasure room, he caught it with magic before it hit the floor. The gold coin flashed as it spun in midair, held by a magical thread.

With a bit of pride, Alex looked at the token he had created that marked him as a friend of the tower. One side of the coin held the image of a dragon’s head with eight stars around it, while the other side had the image of Moon Slayer on it. Alex knew that the coin would remain where it was until the next keeper of the tower came to claim the power of Norsland. And he knew from his dreams that he would also return when that time came.

Ru

“It’s all right,” called Alex. “The evil has gone.”

Bowing, the griffins moved aside without speaking to let Alex pass between them. Then they moved back to block the path to the tower.

“How are you, Sindar?”

“Better now that I see you, my friend,” Sindar answered.

“And the others?”

Sindar hesitated. “I don’t know what’s wrong with them. They seem to be stu

“You seem to have recovered,” said Alex. “Though I was worried when I first found you.”

“Evil has less effect on me than on others,” said Sindar. “And I was lucky you were able to recover my pendant for me. It has taken most of the time that you’ve been gone for me to recover, and I still feel a deep coldness inside.”

“It will pass,” said Alex.

Alex and Sindar returned to their campsite and tried once more to revive their companions, but nothing seemed to work. Alex didn’t know any spell that could reverse the curse, and he was tired. Changing Val’s magic bag into a stone had drained him, and changing the stone into a breeze had taken even more out of him, far more than all his ru