Read The Wilder (The Trouble with Magic Book 1) for Free Online

leaves spiralling down to the gravelled path. Catching sight of an ornate brass bell-pull concealed inside a niche in the wall, he grasped it firmly and pulled. He could hear its metallic jangle far above, but its merry note gradually faded to be followed by a lengthy silence.
    He was about to grasp the bell-pull again when a cheery voice called from behind him. “Are you looking for me by any chance?”
    Startled, Karryl spun round. He had heard no sound of anyone’s approach, no crunch of gravel underfoot, but there looking up at him, his head tilted to one side like a bird eyeing a worm, stood Symon. Having just returned from the palace where he had successfully persuaded a family of mice they would be much more comfortable and better fed in the cellars rather than in the royal apartments, Symon had arrived quietly back at his tower by a means that was far from conventional.
    The magician chuckled. “I didn’t mean to make you jump. I’m afraid it’s a bad habit I have, creeping up on people. It comes of being insatiably curious I suppose. I find out all sorts of things if people don’t know I’m there.”
    He gave Karryl a mischievous grin, and the boy couldn’t help but smile. However, the smile soon faded to be replaced by a disgruntled frown as he glared accusingly at Symon. “I s’pose you know I’ve spent nearly all day wandering round this place?”
    The little magician’s grey eyes twinkled as his grin widened. “Magic’s a marvellous thing when it’s used properly.” He raised an eyebrow. “I trust you enjoyed your afternoon nap.”
    Karryl’s shoulders hunched, and he glared at Symon. “I s’pose that was down to you as well.”
    Symon shook his head and reached up to retrieve something from Karryl’s hair. With a chuckle, he handed him a couple of small yellowing leaves. “Simple observation lad. The back of your jerkin is crumpled too.” He indicated a narrow lane leading away from the tower. “Perhaps we can walk for a while, if you’re feeling up to it.”
    Slipping his hands into the pockets of his long brown robe, Symon began to walk slowly along the gravelled path. Karryl watched him for a while, his teeth working pensively at his bottom lip. Finally, as if reaching a decision, he let out a great sigh and hurried after. Hands stuffed in pockets, he said nothing, his eyes darting from side to side, taking in every detail as he walked beside the little magician. It was only when Symon stopped and sat down on a fallen tree-trunk at the side of the path, that Karryl ventured another word.
    Looking back along the path in the direction of the tower, now out of sight and concealed among the tallest trees, he shuffled from one shabbily booted foot to the other, before diffidently meeting Symon’s enquiring gaze. “You think you can make me into some kind of magician, don’t you?”
    Symon’s lips curved in a half smile as he settled his tiny hands inside the sleeves of his robe. “Well, from where I’m sitting young man, it appears to me that you are already on your way. You are here. Not by choice, admittedly, but I believe everything happens for a reason. As for me wanting to make you a magician, and you actually becoming one; well, a world of difference lies between the two.”
    A grimace twisted Karryl’s dark-eyed face. Plonking himself down on the log beside Symon, he hunched his shoulders. Elbows on his knees, he studied the leaf littered ground at his feet. “This… thing…this, what d’you call it…wild magic you say I’ve got.” His eyes looked haunted as he turned to Symon. “Could you teach me how to control it?”
    Hands folded, Symon tapped his chin with his forefingers. “Now, that remains to be seen. If not, it can certainly be neutralised, but that is only an option when all else fails. It is a long and painful process and I would not want to put you through it.”
    He studied the boy’s scratched and bruised face for a long moment. “Of course, there is