The Choice of Magic

by Michael G. Manning

  “But you don’t have a weapon!” protested Will.

  Arrogan smiled. “Remember the lesson with the sticks? I’ll be fine. Take them to our house. I’ll meet you there after I’ve taken care of this. All you have to do is get past those five in the back. Don’t bother trying to kill them all, just do your best to get past them. Listen to your mother—she knows better what to do here than you do.”

  Will glanced at his mom’s face. She looked tense but determined. What sort of lessons did he teach her when she was learning herbalism? he wondered. I guess I’m about to find out.

  Erisa motioned at him and Sammy with one hand and led them to the back door. “You’ll go out first,” she told Will. “Don’t go straight out. Cut to the left as soon as you get outside. Do your best to make them focus on you with that staff. Sammy and I will be right behind you. When we scream, ignore us. It’s meant to distract them, not you.”

  Then she addressed her niece. “Hold the blade reversed, against your forearm. Here, like this.” She took the knife from the girl and demonstrated before handing it back to her. “When we go out, act terrified. Run toward one of the men on the right, keeping the knife out of sight. As young and pretty as you are, he’ll try to grab you, so don’t be afraid of his sword. When he does, start stabbing. Don’t think, just stab. You’ll be too scared to think straight anyway.”

  Sammy looked plenty frightened already. “I don’t think I can do this,” she mumbled.

  Erisa patted her head. “You’ve already got it down. Just let your instincts take over. All you have to do is remember the knife as he grabs you. You can do this.”

  His heart was pounding in his ears as Will listened to the door. “What if they’re right outside?” he asked. “If they get their hands on me before I can get enough room, I won’t—”

  Erisa interrupted him. “They won’t be. As soon as you hear them yelling, throw the door open and do as I told you.”

  Will frowned. “Why will they be yelling?” he asked, but as soon as the words left his lips he saw a streak of turyn flash by and pass through the door in front of him. His grandfather had cast some sort of spell. It was followed a second later by several yells and one distinctly embarrassing shriek from the men outside.

  What the hell was that? he thought, but his mother was urging him forward. “Go, now!” she barked.

  With his stomach in his throat, Will pulled the door open and charged out, nearly dropping the staff as it caught in the doorframe for a moment. Fortunately, the men outside were too busy recovering from whatever had frightened them, or they might have capitalized on his awkward exit. He could see the traces of magic fading away in front of him. Some sort of illusion, maybe? Taking the staff in both hands, he stepped toward the two soldiers to his left and swung at their legs.

  One of them recovered quickly and leapt back, but the soldier’s friend wasn’t so lucky. Still slightly bewildered, the man took a hard blow from the thick wood staff, directly to his knee. He fell with a shout of pain.

  Will heard his mother and Sammy emerge from behind him. “Please, don’t hurt us!” said Erisa, her voice full of fear and desperation. The soldiers grinned at her obvious fear.

  The man who had been in the center took a step toward Will to help his friend who was being steadily forced to retreat before the long heavy sweeps of his staff. That left only two on the right for Erisa and Sammy to deal with. As soon as they were out, Erisa screamed at her niece, “Run, Sammy! Run!”

  Sammy didn’t need much encouragement. She bolted like a frightened rabbit. In fact, she almost did her part too well, for she moved so quickly that the soldier on the far right nearly missed her, but his fingers caught the back of her tunic at the last second. The man jerked her back, catching her against his chest as she spun and tumbled into him.

  Will thought she might have forgotten to use the knife for a second, for the man made no sound at first, but a few seconds later he began yelling and trying to push the girl from him. It was too late, of course. Sammy had been frantically stabbing for several seconds before his brain registered what had happened.

  The dying man’s companion started to go to his friend’s aid, but the moment he took his eyes from Erisa and started toward them, she jumped toward him. Will’s mother didn’t even bother taking the sword out from under her cloak. She stabbed through it and into the man’s side with all the force her slim body could put behind the weapon.

  All that happened in a matter of seconds, during which Will was forced to retreat from his two opponents. His back was nearly against the house, and as a result his movements were becoming even more hampered. The two soldiers knew how to work together, and he knew he’d be spitted by one of their swords soon.

  One of the two was forced to turn and deal with Will’s mother, though, and once the pressure was off, Will was able to take the fight to his foe. He threatened the man with a wide sweep and then dropped the tip of his staff to the ground and pretended to stumble as the soldier came forward. Increasing his speed as much as possible, Will whipped the end of the staff up and drove it forward in a hard thrust into the soldier’s belly.

  If it had been a spear, the man would have died there, but the hardened leather protecting the soldier saved him from the worst of the blow. Even so, he fell backward and before he could rise, Will thumped him on the head. Looking to his right, Will could see his mother retreating from the other soldier.

  He’d been surprised by his mother’s strength and quick thinking, but she didn’t have the skill or muscle to match the man bearing down on her. The element of surprise was gone, and while Sammy might have helped, Will’s cousin was still in shock, her head down as she sat atop the man she had stabbed to death.

  He started to go to his mother’s aid, but the first soldier, the one he had crippled, grabbed Will’s ankle and he was forced to club the man into unconsciousness. Several frantic seconds passed as he fought to free himself. He was in a near panic by the time he got loose, and in his mind’s eye all he could see was the vision of his aunt, stabbed and then beaten to death.

  It was with immense relief that he saw his mother was still alive and fighting. She had continued retreating, making sure to keep her opponent’s back toward Will. Her eyes met her son’s for a split second, but she otherwise gave no sign that he was coming.

  The last man went down hard as Will put everything he had into a wide swing that ended against the side of the man’s head. Erisa gave him a tight smile. “Good job.” Then she turned and helped Sammy up. The girl seemed numb with shock.

  As she stood, Will could see that Sammy’s hands and the front of her tunic were covered in blood. Her face was white, but she wasn’t crying.

  “It’s all right, Samantha,” said Erisa gently. “Come with me. It will be safe at Arrogan’s house.”

  He helped his mother lead his cousin away, but he stopped for a second, looking at the wounded and unconscious men. “Shouldn’t we—make sure they can’t come after us,” he said uncertainly.

  His mother’s eyes were cold as she responded, “Already thirsty for more blood, William Cartwright? They won’t be going anywhere. Our goal is to escape.” Without another word, she headed into the forest, pulling Sammy along with her.

  Will followed them, but after twenty yards he stopped. “What about Granddad?”

  “He’ll be fine,” said his mother, but Will could see uncertainty hidden behind her eyes.

  Still scared, Will clenched the staff in his hands as he made his decision. “I’m going back.”

  “He chose this, Will,” said Erisa firmly. “Don’t ruin his effort. If you go back and get yourself killed, where will that leave us? Think before you do something stupid.”

  “I’m sorry, Mom,” he apologized, stepping back before she could grab him.

  His cousin’s response was anything but reserved. “No, Will! You promised me!” she yelled.

  Will was shocked at the volume of sound that came from his cousin’s diminutive for
m, but he kept going, jogging away as she yelled at his back.

  Chapter 26

  Will’s fear grew stronger as he ran, and he wanted nothing more than to turn around and rejoin his mother and cousin. The voice at the back of his mind was firmly in favor of that idea. You’re just going to get yourself killed, it told him. Your mother was right. He made his own decision. The wise move is to do as he said.

  “Shut up,” he told himself, coming to a stop at the back door of his house. For a moment he considered going around the outside, but he knew he would be spotted then. His fear quickly overruled that idea. Instead, he opened the door and went back through the house.

  When he reached the front door, he could hear his grandfather outside, talking in a strong, clear voice. “I’m not going to warn you again,” said the old man. “Take these ugly-ass soldiers and turn around. I don’t like killing, but I’m not above improving the world by getting rid of fools.”

  He paused for a moment, debating what he should do. The door loomed in front of him. Should he open it? Terror gripped his heart at the thought of stepping out in front of so many soldiers, not to mention the sorcerer that must be with them. It was certain death, no matter how confident his grandfather sounded.

  Ignoring those thoughts, he gripped the door handle and pulled.

  Nothing happened. The door was stuck and refused to budge. Will stared at it dumbly for a second. He had used that door almost every day of his life, and he knew how much force was needed to open it. Then he noticed the magic that followed the edges of the door. His grandfather had used some sort of spell to keep it from opening.

  Why? he wondered. Did he know I’d come back, or is this part of some strange plan? Shaking his head, Will went to the left and peeked out the front window.

  He didn’t like what he saw. At least twenty men were standing in the front yard, spread out in a broad line. Behind them stood an extremely plump man whose head was entirely bald. Will could tell it was the sorcerer at once, for the man was clad in gaudy orange robes, and if that weren’t enough, a large flame hovered beside him, invisible to normal sight. Beside the sorcerer were four more soldiers armed with crossbows.

  “You seem awfully bold for a man with no friends and very little power to back him up,” said the bald sorcerer.

  “Why don’t you step up here and try me out if that’s what you think, you hairless flesh-bag,” sneered Arrogan. “I was dealing with scum like you long before your father paid your mother to sleep with him.”

  Will saw his teacher’s turyn swell, growing noticeably over a span of seconds.

  The sorcerer saw it as well and his eyes widened. “What are you doing?” Alarmed, he barked an order to the men beside him, “Shoot him!”

  Arrogan snapped his fingers, and Will saw a blur as a spell-construct formed and just as quickly vanished. The air around his grandfather roared, whipping around him in a circular fashion, sweeping the crossbow bolts away before they could reach him.

  The sorcerer seemed surprised. “Who are you?” hissed the plump man. “Are you a warlock? No wizard could spend his energy like that.”

  “I’ll gladly tell you my name,” said Will’s grandfather, “but then I couldn’t let you live. Last chance. Would you rather hear my name or keep breathing?”

  The leader of the enemy soldiers laughed, but it sounded forced. “You’ve got some serious balls, fellow. Not that I care, but tell me your name anyway. It’ll make the story more interesting when we’re laughing about it in camp tonight.”

  “It’s your funeral,” said his mentor before spitting off the porch. “My name is Arrogan Leirendel, and I’m no warlock.”

  As one, the soldiers reacted with chuckles. Even the sorcerer laughed, this time more naturally. Straightening his back, he responded loudly, “You’re either a fool or moon-touched if you expect us to believe that, or perhaps you think you think you’re a jester?”

  Stone-faced, Will’s grandfather said nothing, but his turyn began to grow again.

  “He thinks he’s the Betrayer himself,” sneered the sorcerer. “Kill him.”

  The soldiers advanced, swords drawn, but Arrogan didn’t wait on them. Stepping off the porch, he walked toward them. When he was within a few feet of the center of the line, the three men closest to him froze in place. Reaching out, the old man took the sword from one of them, and before the ones farther away could react, he began coldly butchering the helpless soldiers.

  Will couldn’t help but feel some sympathy for them. He had been paralyzed too many times himself. He could imagine the sheer terror they must have felt, finding their bodies no longer obeyed them, while a madman killed them with their own weapons.

  Those farther away moved to save their comrades, but Arrogan dispatched the first to come within his reach, his sword moving in a blinding display of swordsmanship. Even Will was surprised, and for the first time he realized the old man had been going easy on him during their training.

  But no amount of skill would suffice against so many. The invaders surrounded Arrogan, and Will felt sure the old man would be gutted—but as they closed on him Arrogan’s turyn exploded outward as he launched another spell.

  It was the same one he had used to deflect the crossbow quarrels previously, but this time it was flesh and bone around him. The raging air turned red as arms, legs, and less recognizable pieces of Arrogan’s attackers flew in every direction.

  The violence of the spell was so shocking that in its bloody aftermath no one moved for a second. Most of the soldiers were dead or dying, save for three who had been fortunate enough to be farther away. The crossbowmen were also unscathed, but as they registered what their eyes had just seen, they began backing away in fear, along with the surviving swordsmen.

  Only the sorcerer seemed unfazed. He had been waiting, and now that his opponent’s magic was exhausted, he struck. Will saw raw power flowing from the elemental and into the bald man, then it emerged from his hands as a powerful blast of fire, which he hurled at Arrogan.

  No! Desperate to help, Will opened the window and climbed out, though he knew by the time he could get to him, his grandfather would already be dead. When he looked up again, he was surprised to see his teacher still standing with swirling flows of incandescent fire circling him.

  “Took you long enough, you craven bastard,” swore Arrogan. “You thought your men could take your lumps for you and then you’d step in and clean up afterward, didn’t you?”

  The remaining soldiers routed, dropping their swords and running toward the road, followed closely by the crossbowmen. None of them made it. The flames surrounding Arrogan shot out in long streamers, roasting them each in turn.

  Will wanted to cover his ears, for the screams of the burning men were too horrifying to bear. Unable to help himself, he watched as they fell to the ground, thrashing and rolling. It was almost a relief when the flames reached their lungs and silenced them.

  The sorcerer stared at him, stunned by what had happened. “That’s not possible,” he muttered weakly. His eyes locked on Will’s grandfather. “Who are you?”

  “I already told you, you demented, putrescent ass-pimple,” swore Arrogan, walking toward the man. He still held the sword he had taken from the first soldier, and he grinned as he showed it to the sorcerer. “They say fire is the worst way to die, but I think we should put it to the test. I’ll carve you up first, then burn what’s left. If I see you in hell later, be sure to let me know which was more painful.”

  In a panic, the sorcerer called out to his elemental. The creature appeared then, finally visible to mundane eyes, a roaring bonfire of flames that reached almost ten feet into the air. It interposed itself between Arrogan and its master, but Will’s grandfather didn’t even flinch. He walked straight through the ravenous flames, ignoring them.

  The sorcerer turned to run, but Arrogan leapt forward, stabbing the sword into the heavy man’s leg. His opponent fell, crying in pain. When he looked up at Arrogan, his terror was so great th
at Will thought the man might pass out, for his eyes were starting to roll back in his head.

  The elemental turned and swept great fiery arms at Arrogan, but they fell apart as they passed through the space where he stood. Will could see the creature’s turyn dissolving every time it touched the old man. How is he doing that?

  Bending down, his grandfather put one hand on the sorcerer’s chest. “Time to return what you’ve stolen.” The bald man squirmed, trying to push himself back and away with his one good leg, but Arrogan wasn’t having it. With his free hand he stabbed the sword into the sorcerer’s hip, just above the man’s good leg.

  The sorcerer screamed, but when Will’s grandfather put his hand on the man’s chest again, his screaming changed, rising in pitch and fervor. Will saw something emerging, being pulled away as Arrogan tugged at the man’s source of turyn. When it finally came into view, he could see a complex, glowing knot of turyn. He had no idea what it was, but he could see a faint line of power stretching from it to the massive fire elemental.

  Arrogan plucked at it with his fingers, unraveling it while the sorcerer begged and pled for mercy, weeping all the while. Will’s grandfather ignored him, and after a moment, the knot of magic dissolved. Then he stood and stepped away from his broken opponent. Looking at the elemental, he spoke directly to it. “You’ve suffered long enough, old friend.”

  The elemental towered over the old man, unmoving. Will watched, fascinated, unsure what would happen, and then he was amazed to see the elemental bowing before his grandfather. After it straightened up again, it reached for the sorcerer.

  The man’s screams cut off quickly, and in a very short time the sorcerer’s body was reduced to a pile of smoldering greasy ashes. Then the elemental faded away. Will was glad to see it gone, but the smell of burnt flesh and hair that lingered after was something he would never forget.

  Will climbed through the window, then stood on the porch, uncertain, trying to absorb everything he had seen and heard, but he snapped out of his reverie as his grandfather slowly sank to the ground. At first, he thought perhaps the old man was merely exhausted, but something about the way Arrogan cradled his stomach made him think otherwise.