The Choice of Magic

by Michael G. Manning

  If stubbornness was the same as ‘will’ you’d have nothing to fear, boy, but it isn’t, said his grandfather’s voice in his mind.

  “You should know,” answered Will, his voice raw from the freezing air.

  You’ll die if you don’t find shelter.

  “If you cared then you shouldn’t have left me alone.” He tried to spit to clear his mouth, but it was too dry.

  Sometime after midnight he drew close to the crest, the high point of the path between mountain peaks. His thirst was intense, but when he tried to get water from the skin he carried he discovered it felt like a rock was inside. The snow had melted at some point and then hardened into a solid piece of ice. Ignoring his better judgment, he scooped up some snow from the ground and put it into his mouth.

  It didn’t help much with his thirst, but he felt better anyway. He ate some more and then decided he should take a short rest. His body was so tired that a nap sounded like a perfect remedy. He wasn’t that cold anyway. He found a rock jutting up from the snow and sat down, putting his back against it. His eyes closed almost immediately.

  Wake up, dumbass!

  “Leave me alone.”

  You’ll be as dead as that frozen lump of fat you call a brain if you don’t get up, said his grandfather.

  Will smiled. “You used to have better insults.”

  That’s because I’m a delusion. You’re too stupid to come up with a decent impression of me, said Arrogan. Get up!

  Despite thinking it was a bad idea, Will tried. His eyes wouldn’t open, and it took him a moment to realize they had frozen shut. He rubbed at them with his hands, but that didn’t seem to work, so he gave up on it. He struggled to get to his feet but promptly fell over. “I can’t,” he mumbled into the warm snow.

  Then call her!

  “Who?” asked Will.

  Who do you think? Never mind, just forget it. You’re doing the world a favor by removing your stupidity from it.

  Will giggled. “I was just teasing. I know you meant Tailtiu.”

  Say it again.

  “Tailtiu,” he whispered. “Your daughter is really beautiful, even if she’s my aunt.”

  Once more.

  “I’ve had some really naughty dreams about her. You’d be so mad if I told you,” said Will.

  Say it, you demented half-wit!

  “Tail—” he began before drifting into a warm darkness.

  Chapter 32

  The first thing Will became aware of was a red glow that seemed to suffuse everything around him. In fact, it was the only thing around him. When he opened his eyes, nothing changed; there were no shapes or anything else, other than the red glow.

  “You called, yet you say nothing when I appear,” said a soft, feminine voice.

  It sounded like Tailtiu, but Will wasn’t sure. He might be dreaming. As far as he could tell, he no longer had a body.

  “If you won’t speak, I’ll leave,” she warned. “This is boring.”

  Will tried to answer, but the only sound that came out was, “Grhk.” That answered the question about his body, though. He must still have one if he could make sounds.

  “You’re awake,” she said, sounding surprised.

  “Helphh,” he managed. The words got easier as he moved his lips more.

  “Why don’t you look at me?” asked the fae. The light grew brighter for a moment. “Oh. Your eyelids are frozen shut. Why would you do that?” A warm wind caressed his face, and after a few minutes he felt his lashes come unstuck.

  The red glow made more sense after he cracked his eyes open. A bright light hovered in the air above Tailtiu’s head, but it had seemed red as it filtered through the lids of his eyes. “I’m dying,” he told her, his voice thick but intelligible at last.

  The fae woman cocked her head to one side, reminding him of a curious dog. “You’ve been dying since you were born. Is this a riddle?”

  “Too cold,” he said. “I need help.”

  Tailtiu frowned. “Why don’t you just use your magic to warm yourself?”

  Will groaned. “I don’t know how.”

  Arrogan’s daughter laughed as though he had told a joke. “That’s ridiculous. Father could do it. You’re just like him; you should be able to do the same.”

  Even exhausted, Will found her tone irritating. “Tell me how then.”

  His aunt shrugged. “I don’t know how human magic works. Mother does, but you called me. Besides, that sounds like a favor, doesn’t it? We haven’t made a bargain. I could warm you myself if you like. Would you like to use one of the unbounded favors to ask that of me?”

  As foggy as his thoughts were, Will still knew that was an unbalanced bargain. “Service for three days,” he declared, although it came out as more of a mumble. “One favor.”

  Tailtiu smiled slyly. “Service? What sort of service do you require?”

  Will felt a faint tugging lower down. He struggled to lift his head and managed to catch a glimpse of her hand unfastening his trousers. “Not that,” he insisted. “Any service. Warm me up, help me travel.”

  She paused. “Any service should include sex, though.”

  He wanted to shout at the stupid fae, but that was beyond his capacity. “It does, but I don’t intend to ask for that.”

  “It’s gone,” said Tailtiu, staring at his lower body. “Oh, there it is. Oh dear, how sad.”

  “Three days’ service,” he repeated. “In exchange for one favor.”

  “Shouldn’t it be one favor for each day?” she countered.

  Since the favor was unbounded there were no strict limits—Will knew that much. “Would you prefer three years for one favor?”

  Her face went sour. “Three days then. Deal?”

  “Deal,” he answered. “Can you warm me up?”

  Tailtiu exhaled, and a warm rush of air flooded over him, but unlike normal breath it lingered, wrapping itself around him and lifting his body from the icy ground. It felt as though he was in the softest bed imaginable. The warmth sank into him, and soon he began to feel uncomfortably hot. His arms and legs began to tingle and burn as though he had put them too close to a fire. “You’re burning me,” Will complained.

  “You’ll have to bear it,” said his aunt. “The air is still cold.”

  Will tried to refasten his trousers, but his fingers refused to work. “Can you help me with this?” he asked at last.

  “You humans and your fixation with clothing,” said Tailtiu. She closed up his trousers and retied the laces, then fixed his belt. “Although, in your case I suppose I can understand. It’s so small. It must be embarrassing for you.”

  He would have blushed if his cheeks weren’t still so cold. “I was freezing to death,” he insisted. “What do you expect?” It was then that he noticed the fae woman was nude, as usual. “Aren’t you cold?” he asked. She didn’t even have shoes.

  “Hot, cold, it’s all the same for us,” she told him as she examined his hands. “These don’t look good. You might lose them. Your feet are probably just as bad.” Then she reached up and touched his cheek. “The cheeks too. You’re going to be very ugly if you don’t die.”

  “Can you heal me?”

  Tailtiu appeared to give it serious thought, then responded, “The easiest way would be if you ate some of my flesh.”

  “Not blood?”

  “That would be too slow. You need something more substantial.” She held up her hand, wiggling her fingers. “Like this, or a foot.” When she saw the look of revulsion on his face, she moved her hand across her chest. “Or perhaps you would prefer something softer?”

  The very thought made him want to vomit. “I don’t want to become like you,” he said after he had wrestled his stomach back under control.

  “How rude,” remarked Tailtiu, then after a minute her look of outrage melted away and she began to laugh. “Mother said I shouldn’t tease you too much.” He could see turyn flowing around her, growing brighter and more concentrated around her hands. “I ca
n heal your injuries, but as bad as they are it will probably be very painful.”

  Will didn’t like the sound of that, but he didn’t have much choice. He nodded to indicate his willingness.

  But Tailtiu wasn’t done with her warnings. “There are men on the mountain not far from here. If you scream, they’ll hear us. Were you trying to hide from them?”

  He was almost certain the ones she was referring to would be Darrowan scouts. “I don’t think they’re friendly. Why didn’t they see your light then?”

  “We are hidden by my magic to all but the closest observers.”

  “Couldn’t you hide the sound of my yells?”

  She shook her head. “My magic is good at helping one remain hidden, or to move without sound, but if you scream it won’t be effective. Mother could do it with some of the human magic she knows, but I have never learned such things.” Leaning close, she added, “I can put you into a deep slumber, where perhaps the pain cannot reach you.”

  “All right,” said Will, and then he felt her turyn begin to move, sinking into his body. Seconds passed into minutes, and while he felt a number of strange sensations, he remained wide awake.

  Tailtiu frowned. “Don’t fight it.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Yes, you are,” she insisted. “You’re eating my magic.”

  Eating it? What did that mean? Perhaps his body was converting her turyn into his own as soon as it entered his body. Concentrating, he tried drawing his turyn inward, compressing it around his tiny source and leaving most of his body empty. When that failed to help, he expanded it once more and tried releasing his hold on his source, allowing it to return to what had once been a normal level of turyn production.

  That seemed to work, and he began to grow drowsy, though it still took several minutes before her magic pushed him into unconsciousness. The world darkened, and he sank into oblivion. How long he remained that way he couldn’t have guessed, but a searing pain brought him back. It felt as though flames enveloped his entire being.

  He fought the flames for some period before his consciousness returned. He had a vague memory of wrestling with the power that was tormenting him, but he wasn’t entirely sure what had happened. It wasn’t until he heard Tailtiu’s screams that he finally awoke fully, and his eyes snapped open.

  The ground was ice cold beneath him, as he was no longer floating. Sitting up, he saw his aunt writhing in the snow nearby, her body marked by ugly black lines that covered her from head to toe in a jagged pattern. As he looked, the turyn connecting them disappeared; her movements slowed, and the screams tapered off into a soft groaning.

  “What happened?” he asked as he moved closer. He reached out toward her, but she scrambled back, a terrified look in her eyes.

  “You nearly killed me,” she accused, keeping her distance. Her breathing was returning to normal, but the flesh near the black lines on her skin was becoming red. In some places she seemed to be bleeding as well. A fresh spasm of pain shook her, and she curled into a ball.

  “How? I was unconscious.” Even as he said it, though, he remembered fighting with something before he had awoken. As he spoke, he noticed his hand, which was no longer blue and purple. The skin was a fresh pink, and although it felt tender and sensitive there was no sign of the damage it had possessed earlier.

  He heard a shout in the distance. The Darrowan scouts were beginning to search, having heard Tailtiu’s cries. He glanced around. The magic Tailtiu had been using to hide them was gone, along with her light. They were in a slight depression beside the same rock he had collapsed against earlier, but otherwise they were completely exposed. Only the night hid them, and with a half-moon above that wasn’t nearly enough.

  “We have to move, or hide,” he told her, but his aunt didn’t respond. Will shook her, trying to get her attention, but her body was limp and her skin was as cold as the snow beneath her. Is she dead? he wondered. Did I kill her somehow? According to his grandfather, that wasn’t supposed to be possible. The fae were immortal. Even if you cut one of them into a dozen pieces, those pieces would survive until they were reunited. Smaller wounds would simply regenerate.

  The voices were getting closer, and Will could just make out dark shapes moving against the grey-white of the moonlit mountain slope. A surge of panic rose within him, causing his mind to go blank. Before he knew what he was doing, he began to kick snow over Tailtiu’s body to conceal it.

  An idea came to him then, and he stopped. Brushing the snow away from her, he moved her slightly so she would be more easily visible. Then he moved to the other side of the boulder to hide. Once there, he removed his cloak and scooped as much new-fallen snow over it as he could manage, and then he eased into a low crouch beside the rock and pulled the snow-covered cloak gently up and over himself. Some of the snow fell away, but he thought enough remained to disguise him as a snow drift in the poor light. He clutched his staff in his right hand and touched the sheath on his belt to make sure his knife was still there. Then he waited.

  Despite their nearness, it took much longer for the scouts to reach Tailtiu’s body than he had expected, and Will’s hand began to burn with the cold where it gripped his staff. His entire body felt extraordinarily sensitive, and it was a struggle to remain still, much less contain his shivers.

  There were two men approaching and one of them held a lantern. Both were wrapped in heavy cloaks, and neither seemed to be expecting an ambush despite the strange sounds they had heard. Will bowed his head and closed his eyes to preserve his night vision. His ears would tell him when they were close.

  The crunching sound of boots in fresh snow grew louder, and then a man’s voice called out. “There’s someone here.”

  “Where?” answered the man’s companion.

  “Over there, near that big rock.”

  The steps came closer, and Will heard the sound of blades being drawn from scabbards. That wasn’t something he’d wanted to hear. It was a stupid plan, he told himself. Of course they would draw their weapons. He doubted he’d have much chance against two armed and wary soldiers.

  It was too late to do things differently, however, so he remained still. The steps got louder and then stopped. “It’s a woman,” said the first man. “She’s naked!”

  “Huh?”

  “I think she’s dead,” said the first soldier. “Someone must have killed her and stripped the body.”

  “Be careful, it might be a trap,” said the second.

  “She’s cold as ice. She has to be dead,” said the first, then he hissed. “She’s been tortured! Look at this!”

  The second man wasn’t having it, though. “Make sure she’s dead first.”

  “How?”

  “Stick your blade in her. Then we’ll know for sure.”

  “You’re an idiot,” said the first soldier. “Look, someone’s burned black lines into her. Her skin is charred. Damn, she’s beautiful—or was. Who would do something like this?”

  “We would,” said the second man dryly. “Didn’t you see what some of us did back at that village?”

  “Don’t remind me. I haven’t slept well since.” The first man added, “This isn’t normal, though. It had to be magic. There’s no sign of a fire, and these lines go all over her body.”

  “Let’s get out of here. If there’s a sorcerer, I don’t want to meet him. What are you doing?”

  “We have to take her with us,” said the first soldier. “If it starts snowing, we might not be able to find her later.”

  “Don’t be daft! Leave her there. You heard about the group that got murdered by that old man claiming to be the Betrayer himself. What if he’s up here?”

  “Someone has to bury her. It wouldn’t be right otherwise.”

  As he listened, Will found himself agreeing with the first speaker. Neither of the Darrowans sounded particularly bad, and the first one seemed downright decent. He wanted to stay hidden—to let them leave and then sneak away—but he couldn’t let them take Tailti
u. He waited as the first picked her up and struggled to find a comfortable way to carry the girl.

  Lifting his head, he saw that they had sheathed their swords and the first man had settled on an over-the-shoulder carry. As they turned away, he leapt forward, using his left hand to sweep his cloak up and throwing it over the unencumbered soldier’s head.

  Taking the staff in both hands, he swept the legs out from under the one with the cloak over his head, then turned and rammed the end into the head of the one carrying Tailtiu—or rather he tried.

  Both men were wearing heavily padded gambesons and steel caps. It was an excellent choice for winter, as the padding protected them well from cuts and blows and kept them warm in the cold weather. The end of Will’s staff struck the man’s steel cap and slid to one side, knocking him off balance but doing little real harm.

  The other was scrambling to regain his feet and throw off the cloak, so Will devoted the next few strikes to beating him senseless. Again, his efforts met limited success. The padding made many of his blows ineffective, and the soldier instinctively covered his head with his arms, preventing Will from getting a clean blow to his face or neck.

  The first had dropped Tailtiu by then, and Will heard his footsteps in the snow as he ran toward Will’s undefended back.

  Moving forward, Will jumped over the man he had been attacking and turned, making a wide swing with his staff to keep his attacker from closing. The first soldier stepped back reflexively and tripped as one of his feet caught on his injured friend.

  Seizing his advantage, Will began pummeling both men, preventing them from rising. As before, most of his attacks had little lasting effect against their padded coats, but he made up for the lack of quality with an abundant quantity of blows.

  It seemed to go on forever, and Will’s stomach turned as their efforts to defend themselves grew weaker. He could imagine the pain they felt when his staff struck against their arms and legs. He winced as he heard the sharp snap of a bone breaking.

  But he couldn’t stop. As sick as it made him, his fear was greater. He had to make sure they couldn’t follow him or report back to their camp. One of the men was no longer moving, and the other began to beg. “I surrender. Please stop. Don’t kill me, mister!”