The Dragons of Ice and Snow by J.J. Thompson

like the pile of logs was floating by
itself.
    “ Let me give you a
hand, Kronk,” the wizard said quickly, starting to rise.
    “ I have it, master.
Not to worry.”
    Since Simon knew how
incredibly strong the little guy was, he wasn't too concerned. Once
Kronk reached the far side of the fireplace, he dumped the logs with
a crash and then quickly piled them neatly.
    He turned back to the
table and spotted Aeris hovering just above it.
    “ Oh, you're back,”
he said as he hopped up to stand near the air elemental.
    “ You've always been
quick, Kronk,” Aeris replied with his usual sarcasm.
    “ Stop that,”
Simon told him. “Now, any luck getting us some information
about staves and how wizards used them?”
    By the smug look on the
cloudy little face, the wizard was sure that he knew the answer.
    “ As a matter of
fact, yes. Aethos was much more approachable than I had thought he
would be. You were right, by the way. When he heard that you had
disposed of Heather after her attack on me, he was very pleased.”
    “ Excellent. I was
hoping he would be, although she really left me no choice. Given a
chance, I would have spared her life.”
    “ If you ever speak
to Aethos again, I'd suggest you don't mention that. So, the staff.
Where is it?”
    He looked around as he
asked, but the staff was nowhere to be seen.
    Simon also glanced around
and frowned.
    “ That's weird. I
thought I had left it beside the door, where I used to leave
Bene-Dunn-Gal.”
    “ You did, master,”
Kronk said brightly. He hopped down to the floor and hurried across
the room to the large wooden cabinet where the wizard kept his
outerwear and shoes.
    “ I was cleaning
yesterday and moved it in here out of the way,”
    He opened the cabinet,
pulled out the staff and returned it to Simon.
    “ Thanks Kronk.”
    The wizard lay the staff
across the table and looked at Aeris inquiringly.
    “ So, now what?”
    “ Err, well,
according to Aethos, there's a small ritual that the old wizards used
to bind their staves to them, allowing them to channel their spells
through the weapons.” Aeris looked at the staff speculatively.
“He said that even he doesn't know why a staff or wand can do
that, by the way. Whether it is because they are made of a certain
kind of wood, or their shape.”
    “ I believe it may be
both,” Kronk told him. “I used ash because I remember it
was popular back in the days of magic. Many wizards used it for their
staves.”
    Simon rubbed the staff,
enjoying the smoothness of the wood.
    “ Well, I suppose we
don't really need to know why it works, as long as it does. So, you
mentioned a ritual?” he said to Aeris.
    “ Yes. Right. So, it
sounds a little primitive, to be quite honest, but Aethos claims that
it works.” He hesitated. “You have to inscribe the staff
with your true name.” He paused again and added, “In
blood.”
    “ What?” Kronk
said weakly.
    “ Are you kidding?”
the wizard asked, almost laughing. He sobered as he saw that the air
elemental was serious. “You're not kidding.”
    “ I'm afraid not.
Like I said, it sounds primitive to me. But that is what he told me.
You will know that it worked if the name fades as the blood is
absorbed into the body of the staff. If it does not, the weapon is
not properly made and cannot be used as a wizard's focus.”
    “ That is so weird,”
Simon muttered, touching the staff again. He ran his fingers along
its length. “It sounds like voodoo or something.”
    “ What is voodoo,
master?” Kronk asked curiously.
    “ Hmm? Oh, nothing. A
kind of religion, I think. Rumor had it that they used blood in their
rites.”
    He picked up the staff and
walked to the stairs.
    “ Come on. I want to
use my study for this 'ritual'.”
    They went upstairs and
into the study. Simon crossed to his work table. Among the assorted
pencils, pieces of chalk and charcoal and scraps of paper, were
several sewing needles. He liked to patch tears in his clothing next
to the window