The Choice of Magic

by Michael G. Manning

  Enjoying the sensation of freedom, Will began to run, and even the slight incline and rough ground couldn’t drag him down.

  He covered two miles before he slowed to a walk. The sun had set behind him, and the sky was dimming rapidly. The Darrowan army’s forward sentries were somewhere roughly a mile ahead, if the scouts had been correct. He came to a halt, waiting on full night to hide him, but he wasn’t idle.

  “Tailtiu,” he called softly, repeating her name twice more. “Thrice called, come and render your service.”

  Half an hour passed before she appeared, walking slowly toward him from the north. It was almost completely dark, and the sliver of a moon had yet to rise, but even so he saw her by the light of the stars. He waved to her as she approached.

  “Your eyes are much better now,” she said happily.

  “Are they?”

  She nodded. “Before, you wouldn’t have noticed me in this light until I was much closer.”

  Previously he had known his eyesight wasn’t the best, but lately he had begun to wonder if it was now even better than the keenest eyes among the soldiers. “How close to you think I could get to someone else in this light without being seen?” he asked.

  Tailtiu looked thoughtful. “It varies with your kind, but a safe guess would be less than half the distance I was at when you waved. Human eyes are not bad in the day, but at night they are exceptionally poor.”

  Wow, he thought. He judged that he had waved to her at roughly a hundred yards, but he had seen her well before that. If what she said was true, then his night vision was significantly better than he had realized. It was no wonder he had found it so easy to sneak around the army camp back at Branscombe.

  “What did you need this time?” she asked, breaking his train of thought.

  “I want to sneak into the enemy camp,” he told her. “The mist you summoned the other night seemed useful. Do you think you could do it for me?”

  “So long as I come with you,” she answered. “If you intend to send me back, the mist will vanish not long after I am gone.”

  That wasn’t what he’d been hoping for, but he could adjust his plan. “Then you’ll have to come with me,” he said after a moment. “But don’t distract me. If they discover me, I’m dead.”

  Tailtiu’s eyes focused sharply on him. “Remember what I said before. If you die, there will be consequences.”

  “Are you planning to give me away?”

  His aunt took on an expression of great offense. “Please. You should know I am bound to aid you during this time of service. If you are seen, it will be because of your own clumsiness.”

  Chapter 49

  “There’s two men ahead,” said Tailtiu, her hand on his elbow. “Less than fifty yards.”

  Will could see fine out to about twenty feet, but the mist obscured everything beyond that. “Can you see them? How?” he asked.

  “My mist is no barrier to my sight,” she told him. “Open your ears. You should be able to hear them talking.”

  He listened intently, and after a moment he caught the sound of voices. The sentries were deep in conversation, and while he couldn’t make out the words, he was surprised he hadn’t heard them before. A second later he realized that he had unconsciously focused his turyn on his ears. If I can do that, couldn’t I do the same for my vision? “How do you see through the mist?” he asked quietly.

  “How do you breathe?” she returned, answering his question with another question.

  “Huh?”

  She sighed. “Mother told me wizards could do the same, but they use a human spell. My magic doesn’t work that way, though. It simply happens when I need it.”

  “Could I do that?” Will asked. “I was able to hear better by concentrating. Is this similar?”

  “Fae magic is instinctive,” said Tailtiu. “Faerie is swimming in turyn, so we learn to use it the same way you use your feet for walking. You could try, but I don’t know if you’ll succeed.”

  “Give me a minute,” said Will. Turning his attention inward, he tried to focus more turyn around his eyes while he stared intently at the fog. Nothing happened at first, but then the mist grew bright, almost blinding him. “That’s worse,” he complained.

  “What did you see?” she asked.

  “The mist got so bright I could hardly see at all,” he answered.

  His aunt smiled. “That’s the starlight. It won’t help you. It reflects off the mist and reduces the distance you can see.”

  Will was disappointed. “I guess this won’t work then.”

  “You give up too quickly. If you were able to do that, you may be able to see the way I do. You just need to change what you’re seeing,” said Tailtiu. That statement confused Will, and it showed on his face. His aunt explained further, “Starlight is just like daylight or moonlight. It’s wonderful when the sky is clear, but in fog or mist it’s terrible. You need to focus on the heart-light.”

  “Heart-light? There’s more than one kind of light?”

  She nodded. “Is everything one color? Of course not. Heart-light is similar to red, but deeper. It’s the light given off by warm things. You just need to focus on that instead.”

  He tried again, and while he did, she continued talking. “It’s sort of like the way you focus your eyes normally. Every mist or fog is different, so your eyes have to adjust to see the right kind of heart-light. You’ll know which is best as your distance vision improves or worsens.”

  At first his vision grew brighter, the way it had before, but as he concentrated it shifted and became dark, until he could hardly see at all. “This isn’t working,” he complained.

  “Look at me,” said Tailtiu patiently. “When you get close to the right kind of light, my body will start to glow brighter from its warmth.”

  He did, changing the turyn in his eyes all the while, and suddenly he caught a glimmer. Adjusting his turyn more, he saw his aunt’s body begin to glow until she stood out as a white figure against a gray background. Looking away, he kept at it until the fog seemed to vanish and the world shifted into a strange, ghostly landscape. The ground and rocks were varying shades of grey, along with the occasional trees and brush, and the sky above was a pure black with no stars to be seen.

  The enemy sentries stood out so clearly that he felt sure they must see him, and it took him a moment to get his heart rate to slow down. They can’t see me, he told himself. “This is incredible,” he whispered.

  “I’ll take that as a compliment,” said Tailtiu. “This will be much easier now that I don’t have to worry about leading you around like some blind worm.”

  Will found himself overwhelmed by a whole new world of possibilities, and a new level of responsibility. Being able to see while his enemies could not, did that mean he should try to do something to tip the scales in the favor of his allies? Did he dare? He thought about killing the sentries. He could probably get close enough to use the source-link spell, but could he stomach murdering them in cold blood?

  If he did, it would give the Terabinian army another half mile before the enemy spotted their advance at dawn. That might make a large difference in how ready the Darrowans were for them. “And if I don’t kill them, more of us will die than otherwise would,” he muttered. Right and wrong had never seemed more confusing.

  “Or you could let me do it,” said Tailtiu eagerly. “I’m at your beck and call for the rest of the night. There’s no need for you to bloody your hands.”

  For a moment he was tempted by her offer, but deep down he knew it didn’t change anything. His enemies would still be dead, and it would have been done by his command. It also seemed like a violation of whatever treaty the ancient wizards had worked out with the fae to protect humankind. No, if anyone died, it would be by his hand.

  Will shook his head. “No thanks. What time do you think it is?” His aunt looked up at the stars and he saw turyn flickering around her eyes. “What are you doing?”

  “Changing my vision so I can see the
stars,” she said simply. Then she added, “It’s close to midnight now.”

  If the Darrowans used a similar system, that meant the sentries, he was looking at were on the second watch. They would probably be changed out in a couple of hours when the third watch came on duty. Killing them would only alert the enemy. “Let’s go see how far we can get into their camp,” he suggested.

  Circling the sentries at a sufficient distance to avoid being heard, they moved on, until the perimeter guard of the Darrowan army came into view. With the advantage of the mist and near-perfect vision, it was laughably simple to get past them. The Darrowans had done their best to erect an earthen defense similar to what Will had worked on near Branscombe, but the hard, rocky soil had limited what they could do. A shallow ditch no more than two feet deep was backed by a similarly short mound of rocks and dirt.

  Keeping an eye on the patrols, Will and Tailtiu walked into the ditch and then back up the slope behind it without much trouble. They were in the enemy camp.

  The layout seemed familiar, for the Darrowans used a similar layout to what Will had grown used to. Fifty yards past the earthworks lay the first tents, arranged in small circles at regular intervals. Each circle of tents had a lantern hanging near the center, providing light for any night-blind soldiers who needed to take watch or relieve themselves at the latrines during the night.

  Will moved on, walking through the areas he thought would be darkest, if he had been using his normal eyesight. It was hard to judge while using the strange new vision Tailtiu had taught him. He began changing his vision back to what he considered normal every now and then, to help him plot a course that would keep them best hidden from the eyes of the nighttime guards.

  There was nothing to be gained from examining the tents of the rank and file, so Will worked his way deeper. The officers’ and commander’s tents would likely be in either the center of the camp or to the rear, on the side farthest from danger of attack. Will knew that the Terabinians preferred to keep the supplies to the rear and command in the center, so he went toward the middle first.

  Sure enough, he spotted what appeared to be the main command tent in the center of the encampment, surrounded by what were probably the tents of the higher-ranking officers. Unable to restrain his curiosity, Will dodged two patrols and went to the center tent. Two guards patrolled the entrance, yet another indicator that the camp commander was probably inside.

  Will crept closer, until he was only twenty feet from the guards. At that distance he wasn’t sure if the mist would completely conceal him, so he approached from the side, hoping the tent itself would block their view. He attempted the source-link spell but couldn’t quite connect, so he was forced to get closer by crouching down and creeping forward, moving around the corner.

  The second time he succeeded, and he quickly drew off the guard’s turyn until the man collapsed. The soldier’s companion tried to assist his comrade, but Will repeated the process and after a few seconds the second guard collapsed as well. Will kept pulling, trying to kill the second guard, but the man stubbornly continued to breathe.

  “That won’t work,” Tailtiu whispered into his ear. “The body fights against death. The more you draw, the harder his source will burn to keep him alive. All you’re doing is shortening his life by a few days.”

  “Oh,” said Will, having learned something new. He stopped what he was doing. His body was already thrumming with too much turyn, so he spent a minute slowly expelling it until he felt normal again. Then he crept forward, toward the unconscious guards. Pulling one flap of the tent to the side, he glanced inside but saw no one in the front section of the pavilion.

  “Aren’t you going to kill them?” asked his aunt.

  “How long do you think it will take them to wake up?” asked Will.

  She shrugged. “An hour, perhaps longer. Everyone is different, but they will be exhausted for days.”

  “Then I don’t need to kill them,” decided Will, feeling an internal sense of relief.

  “They’re your enemy. Why not reduce their numbers while you have the chance?” argued Tailtiu.

  He shook his head. “No. They’re soldiers following orders. The Patriarch is my enemy. My goal is to stop him from invading my country, not to avenge myself on as many of his servants as possible.”

  “You’re a fool, nephew.”

  Will ignored her remark. “Wait here. I’m going to look inside. If a patrol seems likely to find them, warn me.” He ducked inside without waiting for her to respond.

  The pavilion was partitioned, and the section he was inside appeared to be devoted to administration tasks. A wide table occupied the center, and two small camp desks were on either side. A pile of papers sat in the middle of the table, but Will saw nothing written on them. Why are they blank? He adjusted his vision back to normal and saw writing appear as if by magic, then he understood. I can’t see the ink with the heart-light.

  He still had no time to read them, so he rolled the entire stack into a tube before tying it with a strip of leather he found on one of the desks. That done, he stuffed the entire bundle into his tunic. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but at least he wouldn’t risk losing the papers if he had to run.

  Moving to the right, he went through the opening that led to the second portion of the pavilion. A large cot stood on the far side of the second partition, while a table and several chests stood near the walls. The cot was empty, and the area seemed unoccupied, but large quantities of turyn were flowing around the room, swirling and twisting like water in a river that had encountered shallow rocks. What is this?

  A familiar green line speared into his chest, and Will felt his body seize up. Panic swept through him as he realized he had been caught. The only things he could move were his eyes, and as they darted from side to side, he saw the line of magic that had connected to his source. It emerged from his chest and angled downward, into the ground at the center of the tent. The rocky soil began to boil, as if it were liquid rather than solid, and a man slowly rose up from the earth itself.

  The Darrowan commander was a lean man with a thin moustache and a receding hairline. He wore no armor, given the hour, but was instead clothed in a thick and heavily embroidered sleeping gown. “Fortunately, I’m a light sleeper,” said the stranger. “What are you, an assassin?”

  The man smiled when he saw that Will was unable to reply. “Next time, kill me first. The sound of you shuffling all those papers woke me. If you had found me sleeping, I doubt I would have survived. Perhaps you’ll remember this wisdom in your next life.”

  The enemy commander began pulling at Will’s turyn, draining him in the same manner that Will had with the guards outside. His paralyzed muscles went slack, and he sank to the ground. The other mage continued until Will was reduced to almost nothing, then released the source-link. The commander studied him for a moment, seemingly deep in thought.

  Will watched his opponent the entire time, while doing his best to speed up the recovery of his turyn. Fortunately, the room was full of turyn, as he had already seen, which made the process faster. Thirty seconds, he thought. That’s all I need. If the commander got close enough, he planned to draw his sword and stab the mage before he could be trapped again.

  The enemy commander didn’t get close, however. He studied Will warily. “Still conscious? How odd. What sort of assassin are you?”

  He’s not going to give me a chance by getting close, thought Will. The man was already suspicious. Will didn’t dare wait any longer, so he shifted his plan. Forming the runes as quickly as he could, he attempted to link to the commander in the same manner as had been done to him.

  But the stranger was faster. The mage leapt back several feet and caught Will with the source-link spell in the blink of an eye. “A wizard?”

  Will focused all his attention on the link, and this time he caught his opponent as the man tried to separate him from his source. Pulling, Will tried to drain the other man’s turyn, and a battle of wills ensued. C
lenching his jaw, Will fought silently with the enemy commander, and as the seconds ticked by he felt his opponent begin to weaken.

  “Damn,” cursed the commander. “You’re strong.” Then he smiled. “But it won’t matter. “Raiha, Selvaren, Trant, Laira, defend me!”

  Will saw the turyn in the room shifting as four massive elementals began to answer the call of their master, coming from whatever strange place they were kept, but he ignored that. Keeping his will iron-hard, he drew his sword and lunged forward, driving the point through the sorcerer’s chest.

  He had missed the heart, but his sword must have hit something equally vital, for the commander’s eyes glazed over almost immediately as the man slid into first unconsciousness and then death. “Next time you shouldn’t forget that even a simple sword can kill.” Then, just because he figured his grandfather would have appreciated it, he added, “Fucking sorcerers.”

  There were still other presences in the room, however, and when Will looked up he saw that he was surrounded by four elementals, two of earth and two of fire. They didn’t attack, but remained quiet, watching him. Thin, almost invisible lines of turyn ran from them to the dead man, and as Will looked closer, he saw there was still magic glowing softly in the chest of the commander. The heart-stone enchantments, he realized.

  Reaching down with his left hand, he felt something tug at him and four knots of intricately wound turyn rose from the sorcerer’s chest. They looked very similar to the limnthal his grandfather had given him, and he summoned it just so he could compare them. But for a few minor differences, they were almost identical.

  He was tempted to take them. Will could feel the magic seeking a new home, a new master, him, but he resisted the urge to take them. The elementals were still watching him, and he felt a sense of sadness emanating from them. He remembered what Arrogan had done when he defeated the sorcerer in Barrowden. Could he do the same?