Sparrow shuddered. "By the gods... you don't mean like the mist approaching us from the forest edge even now, do you?"
Jess turned and shuddered, struck by sudden horror, sensing that the mist of dream, or perhaps Winter's very doom, had slipped out of story, and into the realm of man.
As had been fated, so very long ago.
Jess swallowed. "Exactly the same."
Sparrow paled, his companion bard squeezing his shoulder so hard he winced. "Hold firm, Sparrow. This tale must be told."
Jess nodded, now gazing at Highrock, the first streams of crimson lighting the heavens ablaze.
"And so, the voice of Winter himself, commending my kill. Demanding that I swear myself to his service, and take up ancient artifacts potent enough to send all of Erovering reeling."
Jess turned to Rens, now gazing at Jess and the growing fog with horror.
"It's true, Professor. The frozen magics caressing sword, dagger, wand, and other various artifacts, interwoven with dozens of blessings and curses... those living tools would give any man the power to rule Erovering as a king." Jess swallowed. "As a god."
"Lady Calenbry."
Jess turned to Sparrow, seeing the way the man's throat bobbed with his breathless whisper. "What, by all the gods, do you have in your sack?"
Jess smiled as the sack writhed and bucked, twisting oddly out of focus then snapping back. Jess grinned even as blood ran down her cheeks, having bit her lip so hard to hold back the screams, so horrific was the frigid bite of winter, chilling flesh and bone.
"It was made clear," Jess whispered, her strength draining at last, "that we would not be permitted to leave until we had chosen our prize. Should we not, Malek and I would be lost, Josie would die, and the story would be reset for the next foolish adventurer to fall to horror, madness, perhaps fulfill darkest destiny as the new avatar of Winter, burying Erovering under endless tons of ice and snow."
Jess turned to the bard, frowning only slightly when he stumbled, falling back upon the snow-covered ground with a cry.
"The spirit of Winter made our doom clear. Even I could taste the truth of it. He would see the burning light that floods Highrock, and we who survived that lich would bring about that doom."
"Saints above, no!" Rens whispered, horror in his voice.
Dean Echobart's normal air of bonhomie turned instantly to steel, hand grasping a wand crackling with darkest magics blazing brilliantly to her eyes, for all that the subtle tool of death was hidden in voluminous robes still.
The eyes of a man who only played the bumbling diplomat held her fast. The gaze of a former commander. A killer. His eyes so like her own.
"Jessica. Please tell me you can disperse this fog."
Jess smiled, gazing at the horizon, the clouds aflame with brilliant fire and gold, the first rays of the sun breaching the heavens at last.
With a wrench, she undid the knots upon her burlap sack, and the howling screams of winter could suddenly be heard by all.
"No, you fool! You will doom us all!" Sparrow cried out, students and professors in sudden panic as the treeline fog billowed forth, a waterfall of frigid death, racing for them.
Winter laughed as Jess caressed the frigid helmet inside the sack, whispering dark temptations, teasing her with visions of a frigid empire, glorious palaces of ice and snow.
It was nothing for Jess to diffuse the black ray of death a panicked Dean Echobart shot at her skull with a simple wave of her hand, blood covered fingers rupturing black strands of necrotic energy as easily as waving away a spider's web.
Jess favored the pale-faced dean with a pitying smile.
"No mortal can stop Winter's champion once she makes her choice, Echobart. That is not how this story ends."
Winter's laughter could be heard by all in the howling winds of the growing storm. "At last, my champion. You embrace your destiny."
Jess nodded even as she brought out the horned helm of Winter to the shrieks and wails of dozens of panicked souls.
And the scream shook them all to silence, the forest itself rustling with the cry.
A wail that echoed endlessly, such that stories would be told in the coming days of Winter's horrid cry as the frigid season finally broke, Spring just a heartbeat away.
Scores of stunned souls stared in awe at the helm Jess held, crackling with eldritch green flame, before turning translucent under the brilliant morning light.
A helm of ice, melting in the morning sun.
Dazed students gazed about as if waking from a dream, shrugging off their cloaks in a day rapidly warming, ice and snow melting with the first kiss of spring, fogs both deadly and mundane evaporating under dawn's brilliant light.
"And so, the doom is fulfilled," Jess whispered from trembling lips, gazing at blood covered fingers, frost-bitten and numb. "I seized one artifact from that chamber of horrors, and with it I witnessed Highrock covered in burning light. It was a doom. Not for Highrock, not for her students, but for Winter itself. Since the solstice marks the shortest day of the year, warmth and the renewal of forest and field are now just a handful of weeks away."
The pair of bards gazed at each other before nodding as one, flashing proud smiles and applause. "Well done, Jessica Winterslayer, well done."
A moment of absolute stillness, everyone gazing at Jess in speechless awe.
Malek grinned. "Jessica Winterslayer. It does have a nice ring to it.
One of the students, wiping what was now cold mud from his trousers, traded wonder for an angry glare. "What exactly did she do, save scare us silly and pull out a helmet of ice that melted?"
Sparrow turned to the boy, his gaze almost pitying. "Do you truly not understand?"
The boy's brows furrowed. "Well, no."
Alex gently patted the student on his shoulder. "Jess was locked in Winter's doom. Dooms cannot be avoided, any more than a stream can be stopped up, without the waters of fate eventually flowing over, causing a greater disaster than one could possibly imagine, had one simply left fate alone."
Jera nodded. "But a stream can be redirected. A raging river can become sedate conduits for irrigation, the water flowing still, but directed. Channeled. Jess channeled Winter's own doom against it. Instead of Jess wielding some mystic sword of winter and freezing everyone solid, Jess claimed the helm itself as her artifact, and the doom of destruction foretold became its own. The melting light not fierce fireballs destroying our school during some awful civil war, but gentle sunlight melting Winter's grip, represented by a simple helm of ice."
Jera smiled. "Do you understand?"
The boy swallowed, stepping back. He looked afraid.
"No. That's impossible. This is the living world, not some Guild induced delusion. Fate is nothing but cause and effect. Action and reaction. It's all maths. That's it. No one can change destiny by redefining terms." He shook his head furiously. "It's just not possible!"
Sparrow shook his head sadly. "I'm afraid you will need to expand your mind a bit, lad. For destiny flows around Delvers like streams around the most massive of boulders. To shape a story, to claim it as her own, is what it means to be a Delver."
Malek grinned, poking Jess's armor. "You mean besides returning with tales of wonder and artifacts worth a king's ransom."
Sparrow laughed. "Besides that, and worth a king's ransom her shiny armor is. Fear not, though, no lord would dare seize an artifact that a Delver has claimed, lest he'd have the Guild entire at his throat."
Jess nodded, mind lost in a fog, suddenly too tired to move.
"Jess?" Malek's concerned voice, soothing words, gently leading her back inside. "I think we need to take you to the healers, sister-in-arms. God knows I'm exhausted as well, and I think you paid a heavy price, doing what you did."
Jess shuddered to feel the sudden clap of her mentor's massive palm upon her shoulder. A grip as powerful as nature itself. "At ease, Malek. Calenbry needs rest, more than anything else. To center herself in this realm once more, after having d
ared such a potent dream."
Jess blinked, surprised to see Malek's expression of awe. Sensing the fear just beneath the adoration they both felt for the man whose banner they had followed for so very long.
"If it's all the same, Master Eloquin, I would walk by your side."
A soft chuckle. "Fair enough, Hound."
Malek frowned as they made their way back to the keep, the loquacious bards regaling all with their version of the miracle they had just witnessed, several Guild scribes furiously scribbling with their enchanted quills upon rolls of parchment behind them, followed by awed students and professors alike, who hardly said a word.
"Why does everyone keep calling me a hound?" Malek grumbled to no one in particular.
Jess grinned, ignoring her familiar's amused chuckle, giving her closest friend a sleepy hug, suddenly so dizzy she could barely keep one foot in front of another. "Perhaps it is because you are more loyal, steadfast, and true and any mortal soldier could hope to be. Perhaps it is because hounds were once the companions of ancient gods and goddesses, their loyalty the touch of divinity that places them above base man and his all too easily corrupted soul."
Jess winked at her friend's bemused grin. "Or perhaps we just like saying it because it annoys you so wonderfully. Either way, you are the best hound, and friend, any girl could ask for."
Malek chuckled, hugging Jess back, and Jess was only momentarily startled when Malek hoisted her up in his powerful arms like she weighed nothing. "You're about to collapse upon your feet, shieldsister."
Jess frowned. "I do feel a bit tired, but where are we supposed to sleep?"
"In your quarters, of course," Eloquin said.
Bard Sparrow nodded. "Your master is right. Particularly after a young adventurer's first Delve, it is absolutely vital that she sleep in familiar surroundings if at all possible, or at least a Guildhall with friendly company and musicians to gently summon a dreamer's soul back from the land of nod. An adventurer's soul is at risk of wandering right back into the garden of life and rebirth from which we all sprung that first, perilous night after adventuring, all moors grounding it to mundus having been so recently broken."
Malek shivered. "Bloody hells. So not only are we putting ourselves in peril by daring to step into living dream, but the first sleep after adventure is also dangerous? The deck is completely stacked against us!"
Sparrow grinned. "Ah, but young Malek, think of the reward! The chance of supernatural strength, vitality, martial prowess which few mortals could hope to match, and for some lucky few, knacks that transcend all boundaries of magic, tapping into the potency of Dream itself." He winked. "And as you yourself said, tales sure to turn any girl's head, and treasures worth a king's ransom!"
Malek smirked. "Well, there is that, I suppose."
Jess frowned as they entered the keep once more. "Wasn't I expelled?"
"Yes, you were, you pathetic wretch, and if you dare set foot within my school again, your family will be charged with trespass and invasion!"
61
Malek hissed and lurched to a stop, the entranceway blocked by none other than Head Proctor Hatsk and three other assistant proctors. For all that the latter looked grim, it was Hatsk who fumed with outrage, and Jess felt sickened by the malevolent hate she felt radiating off the man, the second she dared meet his gaze.
Her fatigue vanished before the man who had humiliated her, beaten her, and was responsible for Malek's expulsion as well as her own. She trembled not with exhaustion but with fury, on her feet once more.
Hatsk's lips curled into a contemptuous snarl. "I care not what asinine games the Guild plays with its mad bards and drugged wine. But if you dare let this pariah back into my school, Dean Echobart, the Crown will hear about your blatant breach of protocol, your willful disregard for school policy and the safety of my students! You will be making a mockery out of oaths of office you took upon your first days at this college. You serve at the king's sufferance, and best you not forget it!"
"You will move. Now." Eloquin, sounding as hard and chill as Winter himself. The three lesser proctors lurched and stepped back. But Hatsk's lips wormed into a mocking grin.
"Go ahead, general. Show all your students what a butcher you really are. Unable to leave Erovering because you are wanted for the most heinous of war crimes, and how rich a purse any man would get, for turning you in. I hear your head's worth its weight in gold, if any of your sad little pawns have the spine to claim it for themselves. The Velheim embassy has standing orders to pay the bounty, no questions asked. You don't even have to cross the border."
"How dare you!" Echobart roared, shocked at Hatsk's words, a score of students and professors blinking and turning to Eloquin, even as several score Squires glared at Hatsk with icy fury befitting their master.
Jess shook her head. The fool had just signed his death warrant, and didn't even know it.
"How dare I indeed, Echobart. I do naught but keep this school safe. It is you who are failing in your duty! And if you force your way past me with this pariah, I shall see you brought on charges of assault and invasion! See if I don't!"
Eloquin turned to the Squires following behind so faithfully, a hand signal flashed, so much conveyed. Jess swallowed, knowing why they had followed so faithfully, witnessing Jess's final test, confronting Winter itself, and she had no doubt, absolutely no doubt what Eloquin would have commanded them to do, had Jess drawn free not Winter's helm, but a mystic sword of ice, proving Winter's Champion in the end.
Her brothers and sisters in arms would have done everything they could to strike her dead, however fiercely they had loved Jess even days before. Jess smiled back at them even as several swallowed and lowered their heads, realizing that Eloquin's favored tactician of course understood their role. Understood, and approved. If one of her fellows had fallen to darkness, she would have done the same, however bitterly she might regret it later.
And now their purpose had shifted, all of them preparing for what was to come.
Jess turned and caught Eloquin's fierce gaze. "Don't let this fool mar our cause. Don't let him bait you into a trap."
It was then that Alex and Rens stepped forward, Alex clearing his throat. "Perhaps I can be of service."
Hatsk sneered. "You can run off, tail between your legs. I know you are one of her sycophants."
Alex tilted his head, gazing behind the proctor, his three assistants having stepped several paces back under the weight of Eloquin's glare. "Oh, Duggin, there you are. Come to gloat at Jess's humiliation, no doubt. Don't be shy, come forward! I have something for you."
Hatsk glared. "What the hell are you getting at, boy? You had better not be planning mockery, or I will whip your back bloody."
Jess allowed herself a smile as Twilight chuckled. "I'm glad we covered our bases, mistress."
Jess nodded. "I'm glad you were able to help Alex," she whispered, no one else paying her soft words any mind.
Echobart cleared his throat, nodding to Rens. "If your worthy apprentice can help facilitate a smooth resolution, friend Rens, then by all means, let him present his case."
Alex bowed. "Thank you, Dean." He turned to a frowning Duggin, sandy hair blowing in a breeze that smelled of spring with the scents of wildflowers and pine every bit as much as it did the memory of endless ice and snow.
"Your friend assaulted me. No, more than that, she tried to kill me," Duggin sneered. "And none of your magics can change that."
Alex shrugged. "I guess that has yet to be shown one way or another. But I do believe in the value of helping my fellow students out, even if we are at odds. How else, after all, can bridges be mended over rifts of misunderstanding? And so, I thought to myself, how can I most help poor misunderstood Duggin?"
Duggin frowned. "I don't want your help."
Alex chuckled. "Are you sure? I did find a priceless treasure you lost, worth a fair amount of silver, too."
Duggin blinked. "What are you talking about, Alex? No matter what it is,
I'm not forgiving that damned bitch after what she did to me."
"Did?" Malek's look was one of outrage. "She did nothing but test your metal, and found you lacking! You're not fit to be a Squire, Duggin, and not just because she beat you so handedly in the sparring rings."
Neal spat. "It's because you are a backstabbing sycophant who wouldn't last a full minute in the crush of battle. You'd turn tail and run, no doubt thinking of whatever tale you could to whisper in your commander's ear, covering your own flaws even as you denigrated the men who risked their lives while you turned coward! That is why we refused to take you, Duggin. And that has nothing to do with losing to Jess!"
"Horse crap!" Duggin shouted, fists clenched and shaking. "You're all a bunch of arrogant elitist monsters! Butchers! Savages! You knew I wasn't black and twisted in my heart like you all are, so of course you dare not let me see how dark and foul your master really is!"
"You'd best run, little boy." Lucas's words. And never had Jess heard her friend sound quite so chill, Duggin blanching at words that promised death. "Run while you can."
Duggin swallowed and stepped back. "Do you see, Proctor Hatsk? Do you see how vile these monsters really are?"
Hatsk nodded, eyes lit with a feverish glee. "I do indeed, boy. So many dark truths to share with the king."
The air grew thick with the weight of impending violence. Jess shook her head as Hatsk and Duggin just stood there, gloating, even as the savvier students and professors glanced at their Squire counterparts, prudently stepping away.
Dean Echobart gazed intently at Alex. "Do what you can, boy. I'd rather not have to mop up my doorstep."
Alex smiled and nodded. "Duggin, do you remember that cinquedea you had lost the other day? Well, fortunately, I was able to find it for you." Without further ado, he whipped out a foot and a half long blade speckled with the faintest traces of rust with one gloved hand, carefully holding it only by the pommel.
Squire of War Page 62
