Once they were out of the hut, Howel said his goodbyes.
“It is not good that you walk with a dragon, I don’t know why, but it seems the others think that I stand out a little and may draw attention to you. I will depart for now, but we will meet up again later.”
Speech over, Howel unfurled his wings and launched skywards. Within a minute, he was just a dot on the horizon and then seconds later he was gone altogether. Tom marvelled at his speed, he no longer seemed like a comedy cartoon character, but now a great, mythical, magical, and fearsome fire breathing dragon.
Tom walked with Flintock. He mused in his mind his new friends, he really liked Howel, he was so funny, he liked Flintock, he was kind, and despite his hideous looks, he had even warmed towards Tryg. But he still didn’t like Llewel the Elder.
They walked in silence for some time, after about an hour, Llewel spoke first and broke the silence. Much to the surprise of them both, he announced...
“The boy needs to learn some magic, to do that he needs a wand, so first, to the wand tree.”
Tom thought for a moment, then said, “A wand tree, I never knew that magic wands grew on trees.”
“They don’t,” said Llewel sharply, but without explanation, “it’s about a day’s walk from here to the Wand Wood, the wand tree is in the middle of the wood, you can’t miss it, it’s massive, ten times the height of any of the other trees.”
Flintlock continued, “It will take us out of our way a little, but it is worth the detour, then we can start some lessons.”
Tom was not impressed by the word ‘lessons’, sounded a bit too much like school.
“When we get there, it is just a small copse of trees, the wand tree is in the middle, you can’t miss it," repeated Llewel as if only what he said mattered, "but a word of warning, once you’re there, don’t ask questions. The tree doesn’t do questions. However, you need to find out as much as you can about your wand, but without asking questions!”
Tom was perplexed. What on earth is the dwarfen little wizard on about now? How can a tree not like questions, it’s not like it can hear you or answer back, and anyway, how can you find out about anything without asking questions?
About mid-day on the morrow, they arrived at a large plain. Set in the middle was a small, wooded area. He could see the wooded area, but all the trees looked the same height. As they got closer, he could see that there was every tree he could name, and quite a few he could not name, all huddled together in the wood. He could see Oak and Ash, Birches and Beeches of many types, Poplar, Elms, Pines of all sorts, many types of Eucalyptus, Irish Yew, English Yew, even fruit trees like Apples, Cherry, Mulberry and Pear. So many trees, all different, but all the same height. The trees which should tower above the rest like mighty Redwoods and the trees which should be tiny like Elderflower were all the same size. There did not appear to be a mightily tall tree in the middle at all.
“There," said Llewel, “right in the middle, can you see the tree that towers above the rest? Ten times higher than all around? That’s the tree to go for.”
But Tom couldn’t see the tree in the middle. To him, they all looked the same height.
“But they all look the same height to me, I can’t see a massive tree anywhere.”
“Don’t be a daft lad. Look, it’s massive, humongous, right in the middle. Look!” Llewel said getting agitated and pointing at an empty space in the sky.
“The wood and the trees look different for different people,” Flintock said to Tom quietly, “don’t worry. When I came here it was just oak trees, hundreds and hundreds of oak trees all packed together so tightly that I couldn’t see a way to get in.”
Quite soon, they reached the edge of Wand Wood. They all stopped and looked at the wood. What was first described as a small copse, now looked like a massive forest of identically sized trees. Thick dense forest with, as Flintock had said, no apparent way in.
Llewel repeated the instructions on how to talk to the tree. Although Tom wasn’t really listening.
“How are we going to get in there?” Tom asked nervously.
“We?” said Llewel, “Not we, but you, and only you. We can’t go in, we already have our wands, only acolytes may enter.”
“Unless you come for a repair or replacement,” added Flintock, "but then you get the same wand as before.”
“Well, what do I ask for then?”
Llewel snapped back, “Can’t tell you that, it’s between you and the tree, strictly confidential.”
“But what do I know about wands? Come on, help me out a bit.”
“No, no, no," said Llewel, “there are rules about these things, now in you go.”
“Well how do I get in?” asked Tom a little nervously.
“Just walk boldly up and it will allow you to enter,” Flintock said, “but don’t forget, no questions.”
Tom didn’t quite hear the last bit as he was already walking excitedly to the wood. The trees seemed to part, and he found himself in the Wand Wood, with the path leading into the centre, the path opening as he walked and closing again behind him. He looked around nervously, all the trees looked dark and menacing and all still the same height. Most looked as if they had faces and some were even talking to each other. Looking at him and then passing comments and snide remarks to each other. Giggling even, laughing at him. This place was creepy.
He was carefully looking around for a tall tree when he heard what sounded like a scream and a loud creaking noise. He looked up and saw the trees in front of him changing, growing, expanding, joining together to form one huge tree and a clearing appearing around it. The scream was not a scream at all, it was the sound the wood made as it grew and merged and grew and merged and grew and grew. Within a couple of minutes, he couldn’t see the top of the new tree, it seemed to disappear into the sky itself.
Tom decided he had found the wand tree.
As it grew, a knurled face appeared on the trunk with woodpecker holes for eyes and an owl’s nest for a mouth, a nose from a broken branch with just one leaf and branches sprouted out like arms, the roots then seemed to grow up from the ground as well and what looked like an old-fashioned stand-up desk appeared in front of the tree.
“Next!” said the tree, “Next one please, hurry along, I’ve not got all day. Next!”
“There’s only me here,” said Tom.
“Then you must be next,” the tree said, “and how may I be of assistance?” Before Tom could answer, the tree asked, “name a wood.”
Tom was confused, does he mean, to name a wood like oak, elm, or willow? Or does he mean to name a wood, like the woods in the valleys back home? Elkin Wood, Fernley Forest, or Piney Copse?
Tom said, “Do you mean like oak, elm, willow? You really need to help me here......”
Before he could finish the sentence, the tree retorted, “oak, elm, willow and yew it is then.”
“I never said yew!”
“Yes, you did. Very strange choice, no one has ever asked for a wand of four different kinds of wood before, occasionally three, often two, but never four, and no one has ever, ever asked for yew. Oh well, never mind, oak, elm, willow, and yew it is. But don’t mention the yew wood to anyone or they’ll all be back for one.”
“But I was told you can’t, you only get one chance at a wand.”
“Interesting choice though,” the tree said, casually ignoring Tom.
“Name a stone,” said the tree, "precious or otherwise.”
“What, you mean like a diamond, ruby, and emerald or like coal, flint or granite?”
“You can’t have six, three’s the maximum, and that’s pushing it. Most times I only give one or very occasionally two. Diamond, ruby and emerald it is then.”
“No! you misunderstand, I was just asking a question, not giving an answer.”
As he said it, he remembered what Llewel had said, just as he thought it, the tree said, “He did tell you, didn’t he, I don’t do questions!”
‘How did the tree know that’? Thought Tom.
“I know most things," said the tree.
“But I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to,” said the tree, irritated.
Tom suddenly realised he was holding a wooden staff, exactly his own height, with a jewel set in the top which shimmered in the light. It didn’t seem to weigh anything; it was as light as the proverbial feather. He wanted to know more but knew he could not ask questions. How could he find out about what he had in his hand without asking questions?
“It’s a bit big for a wand, it doesn’t fit in my pocket,” he stated out loud.
“It doesn’t have to,” the tree replied, “just say or think ‘wand’ and a wand will appear, ‘staff’ and the staff will appear, and ‘wand be gone’ and it disappears altogether.”
Tom thought hard about how to ask the next question without it being a question.
“It’s not very big. Well, it is now, but I’m only thirteen, by the time I’m grown up, it’ll be a tiny staff, more like a walking stick.”
“No it won’t, it will always be the same height as you. As you grow, the staff grows, as you shrink, the staff will shrink.”
Tom didn’t quite understand the last bit, but anyway, he was thinking about his next non-question.
“Doesn’t seem very powerful,” he said.
“Oh, but it is! And with your very surprisingly wise choice of materials, it will be a very great wand indeed. Oak is for strength and endurance powerful in war and battle. Elm is the tree of great wisdom, something you lack now, but the wand will guide you, and willow, second only to wych-hazel for its healing and restorative powers, and the yew will make it a very fine bow should you ever need one. But don’t tell people about the yew, I’ve never granted four kinds of wood before. Ever. Never ever. Never," his voice trailed off towards the end.
“The yew, of course, is only good for one thing, and that’s for making a longbow, I suppose it might come in handy if you come across a roundhead or some marauding feudal knight from the middle ages.”
“Now,” the tree suddenly started again at full volume, “the stone in the top. Diamond, the giver of light to fight against the darkness of evil, and again giving great power and strong pure magic when needed for defence or attack, diamond is the hardest material known to man and with it, you will be able to cut through many defensive shields. Ruby, the firestone, allows you to control fire and emerald, the water stone and giver of life itself. Harness the power of that wand and you will be a great wizard young Tom.”
“Next!” shouted the tree.
Tom looked around to see no one.
“But there’s only me here,” he said.
“Then my work here is done. Goodbye”
Tom was about to say thank you when he found himself outside the wood standing next to Flintock, Llewel and Tryg. They were all staring at him.......
Expectantly......
He stood there, empty-handed.
“Show us!” Llewel and Flintock said in one voice and with the excited tones of a kid at Christmas, “Show us!” they repeated slightly louder.
Tom thought for a moment and then said “Staff” he wasn’t expecting anything to happen, but it did, there he was holding his new staff with a strange jewel set in the top made of diamond, ruby and emerald.
They both gasped when they saw it.
Flintock looked delighted at the new staff, Llewel looked jealous and slightly envious. Tryg didn’t give a fig about the new wand, he was simply happy for Tom and even happier to see Llewel upset.
Tom then tried it out, "Wand,” he said, and the staff instantly became a smaller version of his staff. Every detail was the same except it was the same length as his forearm.
“Wand be gone,” and he stood empty-handed. He kept going through the cycle, over and over, laughing as he did it.
“Stop, stop,” said Flintock smiling, “you’ll wear it out!”
“Yes,” said Llewel, “there’s a lot more to magic than making a wand appear and disappear. You have so much to learn and so little time to learn it. Quite ridiculous, quite impossible. Now stop playing with it and tell us what you learnt about it.”
Tom explained everything that had happened in the Wand Wood and everything that was said, missing out the bit about the yew tree and having four different kinds of wood. Flintock was amazed that he found out so much, Llewel just made a “Humph” sound at the end of nearly every sentence.
“Why do we have both a staff and a wand? Why not just one or the other?”
“Well,” started Llewel in an almost friendly tone, “the wand is really an everyday magical instrument for small but no less powerful spells, mainly using the power of the wood as the channel for the power. That is why it is held thus.”
Llewel the Elder held his wand delicately in his hand, the jewelled end resting on the top of his purlicue, the fleshy bit between the thumb and forefinger, the tapered wooden part facing away. It can also be held between the thumb and forefinger with the jewelled end in the palm of the hand, this is often the stance for single combat or spells which need a bigger gesture. To demonstrate, he flicked his wand at a small shrub, and it burst into flames, he flicked again, and it extinguished itself.
“Now the staff is mainly for bigger spells, fighting battles, big and powerful magic using the power harnessed in the stone.” he banged the staff on the ground and a mighty flash came from it and they were surrounded by a huge ring of fire.
“Very good defensive shield if under attack from all sides.”
He then raised the staff and lunged forward, and fire sped away into the distance setting on fire everything in its path. He lifted the staff again and the fire stopped dead, waved his hand and all the flames disappeared. Llewel seemed to take some pleasure in its destructive force.
“Wow!” said Tom with a gulp.
“Not really, anyone can do it with the right mindset. As you can see, my stone is Ruby, so fire is a big part of my defensive and attacking magic. The trick with wand work is imagination and visualisation. Visualise what you want to do and send that visualisation down into the wand. With practice, you can do most things.”
“Now, that bush I scorched just now, see what you can do with your wand. Don’t forget, visualise and transmit.”
“Wand,” said Tom. The wand appeared. He gingerly pointed the wand at the bush. Llewel the Elder and Flintock watched eagerly. They expected little, maybe either a puff of smoke and a twig to catch fire, or he would blow the whole bush out of the ground. But instead, it was not what they expected at all. Tom didn’t even try to make the bush burn. Instead, he gently waved his wand and restored the shrub to better than its former self, with new growth, flowers, and a wonderful scent.
“Staff!”
He then raised his staff and held it aloft in his right hand and raised his left hand as well, a soft green light came from the jewel in his staff and radiated out, all around where the grass had been burned by Llewel the Elder’s defensive ring of fire and all across the plain where he had sent his fire like a cavalry charge of burning destruction, grass grew, flowers bloomed, and all was restored. Tom wanted to be a healer, a repairer, a restorer, a renovator, not a destroyer.
Flintock smiled. There is more to the boy than he thought. Much more. Llewel the Elder just grunted.
“Enough for one day,” said Flintock, “Tryg, do your stuff.”
He handed Tryg the small phial, in which Tom could still see the thick grey smoke swirling and twisting as if alive, removed the stopper and released the smoke. The smoke curled, expanded, and thickened. When it cleared, there was the shack, the broken garden shed, the many-roomed mansion, the almost home from home he had stayed in the previous night.
Flintock walked around it staff in hand, muttering, "There, all in place. No one can see it now except us and Howel should he wish to join us here.”
“Well, whoever it was earlier knew where we were this morning, so they might be back tomorrow with reinforcements,” said Tom.
“Yes, I’d been thinking about that, how did they know where to find us?” said Llewel. Then in a low tone that he thought Tryg could not hear, “Can you trust your trygall? They have little loyalty you know.”
“I would and have trusted my life to Tryg, and for the record, he’s not my trygall,” Flintock said pointedly, “he is free to live as and where he wishes, but he wishes to stay with me.”
“Then think about how Asmodeus found us,” he sneered, “think about it well.”
That night was quite restless for Tom, he thought about the verbal disagreement between Llewel the Elder and Flintock. After he had gone to bed for the night, he heard them arguing about it again, and again after Tryg had left to forage food for breakfast. All night he seemed to be thinking about how they, whoever they are, had found them so quickly. As he slept, he heard the voice calling him again. By morning he was just as tired as when he went to bed. But up he got and put on a cheerful face and went out into the great hall for breakfast.