Blaze of Magic

by J. A. Culican

  Bells glanced around the room reflexively, looking for people around who might have overheard that. Then she remembered they were alone in the room and felt rather silly. Silly, and somber. "Don't say such things. Jaekob outranks me by far. Any dragon does, and so do elves. I'm just a farm girl, a fae, and I'm not good at handling all the politics that go on behind the scenes."

  "Well, you had better get used to it. Most people don't even know there are divisions among their leaders. And remember, people will eventually turn on every hero unless the hero continues to make them safer, better fed, whatever. Respect for the famous doesn't last forever, and quickly turns to envy. So, don't let it go to your head."

  "Good advice," she said. Just what she needed—more worries.

  She dove back into the platter of treats on the table and they spent most of the next hour on the usual small talk of fae getting together. She helped herself generously to the food he had brought, and by the time she left, they had eaten through almost half the food on the platter. Her stomach ached in a very satisfied way.

  When she left the store, she had to shield her eyes against the bright sun, briefly, until they adjusted. As she made her way back across the plaza, her thoughts drifted to her conversation with Hawking, and her uneasy feelings returned. She felt an urgent need to get back to the manor and walked as quickly as she could.

  Then, when she was only a couple blocks from Mikah's, she came to an abrupt stop as a feeling like a dark and ominous fog bank washed over her. A word for that feeling popped into her mind. "Evil," she whispered.

  She sprinted the rest of the way to the manor, looking back over her shoulder every few paces.

  Just as Bells got one foot on the lowest step leading to the manor’s patio, the front doors flew open and Jaekob rushed out, heedless of the door he'd left open behind him. He thumped down the steps and grabbed her arm in one hand, his face pale, and said, "What's wrong? I felt you in danger, and your fear, but I don't see anything."

  Bells shook her head frantically. "No, it's not here. A feeling just washed over me. Like, something evil rolling in. It's all over the city, like a black fog."

  "You can see this fog? I don't see anything." Jaekob quickly glanced around the area.

  "Yes. No. I mean, I can see it, but not with my eyes. I sense it, but it's so strong I feel like I can almost see it, if that makes any sense. Whatever it is, it's big, and it's terrifying."

  He let go of her and stepped between her and the street, one hand on his spear over his back. "Can you see where it comes from? I can't believe we're facing another attack in the same day."

  "The attacks are getting more frequent," she said, nodding. "We stopped the enemy, but only for a little while. This thing has to be hunted down to its source, whatever it is." She paused, then asked, "Will you come with me?" The tone of desperation in her voice somehow felt appropriate, not embarrassing. He should be scared, too.

  "If something threatens the city, it's my responsibility. I'm going, and you can come with me. If you can sense it, help me track it down."

  "Can't you just tell your father's battle mages?" She was more than reluctant to go find it, even with him by her side.

  "No, not until we know it's real, and not some premonition or side effect from the sword. Don't misunderstand me, I believe you, but I need proof to take it to them. They're busier than they've been in a long time, reinforcing the Wards around the city—for all the good that has done so far."

  She didn't even care how he chose to look at it. Whatever was sending out that black energy like a radio tower had to be powerful magic indeed, and someone had to find it before it caused real damage. If it had to be her, she'd go... reluctantly. "Of course I'll help you find it," she said, and felt a beam of pleasure at the way his whole posture suddenly opened up.

  "Which direction is it in, can you tell? Maybe it's stronger in one direction."

  Bells closed her eyes and took a moment to focus her fae senses. She'd been too terrified to control them, before, but with Jaekob at her side, she just might be able to clear her mind enough to do it.

  She almost yelped when she saw a rolling, roiling black haze in her mind's eye, covering the streets, the buildings, the people—but that dark fog bank flowed in one direction. She might find the source by going the opposite direction. "That way, but I don't know how far away," she said, pointing northeast.

  "Very well. After you." He paused and then said, "I'll be right behind you. Do not worry, okay? Don't let fear get to you."

  Bells broke into a jog, a pace she could keep up for miles. She could almost imagine the black fog pushing against her, slowing her. Or maybe it wasn't her imagination. Just because she couldn't see it with her eyes didn't mean it wasn't real.

  After half a mile, her forehead grew damp. It was certainly taking more effort to run in that direction than it should have. She felt a pang of fear about what they might find. If it was powerful enough to overwhelm her senses and even deliver a physical effect, she would not underestimate the danger when she found the source.

  They jogged on and on. The black haze continued to flow, but Bells thought she detected it changing direction by a few degrees. She paused and watched, her eyes closed. There! It did shift, she was certain. "The direction is changing. It might be on the move, whatever it is."

  Jaekob's voice was gruff as he replied, "Or you're wrong about it flowing outward from a single location. If so, we aren't backtracking it to the source, we're just getting lost and wasting time. Should we keep going in this direction to backtrack the flow, or turn around and follow it?"

  Bells opened up the little tendrils in the back of her mind and reached out with them to connect to the sword. When the thin filaments of her thoughts touched the sword, however, there was no reaction. She tried again, but the sword still made no reply. She frowned.

  "What's wrong?" Jaekob asked.

  "I had hoped to get advice from the Sword of Fire. As old as it is, it might very well have seen this form of magic before and be able to share some details. I say we backtrack it to wherever it comes from."

  "What if it changes direction?"

  "However many times it changes direction, if we simply keep backtracking it, we'll eventually get to the source."

  He nodded, and she turned and began to jog again. The farther they went, the more her extended senses could feel the fog, and it grew more unpleasant with each city block they passed. Only a few minutes later, the unpleasant sensation morphed into the beginnings of a headache. Curious, she withdrew her senses and the headache vanished immediately.

  She opened her eyes to find Jaekob peering at her intently.

  "Are you okay?"

  She smiled, surprised he had noticed she wasn't doing well. "Yes, I'm fine. I just can't keep my senses stretched out for more than a few seconds at a time. That black fog was giving me a headache, but I can still spot-check it as we go."

  Jaekob nodded and took off again, heading the direction she had pointed. Bells matched his pace, though with each step, her fatigue grew faster than it had any right to. It took only a glance at Jaekob to see that he, too, had a damp forehead. It wasn't just her imagination. She'd have to keep an eye on him, she decided. If the fog became dangerous, Jaekob probably wouldn't have the sense to stop and rest until it killed one of them.

  Each step grew more daunting, taking more effort, but it was only her imagination. It had to be. The fantasy in her head was just freaking her out. Whether the resistance was real or a result of an overactive imagination, her steps were still slower than they had been, and jogging was a distant memory. The effect was real enough.

  Jaekob seemed to be fine. He kept a steady, even gate and whenever he got more than about a dozen feet ahead of her, he would stop and "post up," as he put it, looking around for any signs of danger. When she got close again, the process would repeat.

  Or was he simply too proud to admit his fatigue? Certainly, posting up every couple of minutes gave him plenty of chances
to catch his breath, and there was no doubt he was in better shape than she was, despite her hard life farming. He was a professional soldier, first and foremost.

  When she staggered, he cast a glyph over her chest, weaving the red symbol with such ease and grace she could have thought he was a magician. Once it was completed, she felt renewed energy.

  "Thanks," she said. "I feel a little stronger again."

  He looked more haggard than he had only a minute before. "It takes my energy and gives it to someone else. A spell every warrior dragon is taught. Mine aren't as good as many, though."

  "Good enough to let me keep walking. Let's go." She felt like they had walked at least ten miles against the current. Had enough time passed to walk that far? She didn't think so but couldn't be certain. And, while the black fog's gloom did nothing to lessen the sun's heat, everything looked dim and dingy to her real eyes, even, like an overcast day with no clouds in the sky.

  Just as she caught up to Jaekob again for the umpteenth time, she didn't lift her feet high enough and she tripped, staggering forward. She would have fallen but Jaekob caught her. He had lightning reflexes, even exhausted.

  That was when she noticed how sweaty he was. His face was paler than it had been, and though he was still breathing through his nose, his chest rose and fell, deep and fast. It hadn't been her imagination after all. The black fog really was oppressing them, trying to keep them away.

  He must have seen her examining him because he looked away, still holding her in his arms at the angle he had caught her at. His jaw muscles flexed once, and then he said, "Yes. I feel it, too. Actually, I thought it was just me and you were going slow for my sake. I'm not sure how much longer I can keep this up, and I'm surprised you've come this far if you're feeling it, too."

  She struggled to her feet and brushed herself off. Even standing there, the effort kept her panting. She tried to talk, but could only say, "Yeah. Tired." She was impressed he'd been able to say so much, and she wished he would shut up. She didn't feel like talking.

  Without saying more, she continued on against the flow of black fog. She had the distinct impression that she could actually see it with her eyes now. It was faint, a vague haze around everything she saw.

  A couple of steps behind her, Jaekob grunted and she heard a dragging footstep, then another. Time seemed to vanish. Every step took an eternity, yet the time between steps seemed only a millisecond. With each step came a new mental battle, caught between iron will and failing flesh.

  Bells had no idea how long they continued like that after she tripped, but this time, when she caught up to Jaekob yet again, he didn't continue on. He bent down and rested his hands on his knees and began sucking air like he had the wind knocked out of him. She understood the feeling. It made her all the more grateful for the glyph he'd cast. She doubted she could have gone this far without it.

  After a couple of breaths, hands still on his knees, he looked up at her. "Haul out that sword. See if we're even going in the right direction." He opened his mouth again, but let it close.

  Bells growled. She really didn't want to draw the weapon. Her arms were made of lead, along with the rest of her body. She stopped beside him and copied what he was doing. He was a soldier, after all, so it must be an effective technique. After a few breaths, she groaned. Even the idea of drawing that hunk of metal seemed too much to bear, and the thought of pulling out her sword only to discover they had been traveling in the wrong direction for Creation only knew how long, was soul crushing. She almost didn't want to find out.

  Irritatingly, Jaekob's exhausted, patient, steady gaze left her little choice. She reached for the sword. At first, the weight felt like when she had tried to pull her sister's boot from the mud in her family's fishing pond, as if the scabbard was sucking the blade back down into it. The more blade she pulled from the scabbard, however, the easier it became. It seemed like it took no effort at all to draw the last foot of Stone Age steel. She struggled to hold the blade in both hands in front of her—

  Bells' jaw dropped. The oppressive weight that had been pushing on her had vanished. She risked spending a little energy on expanding her senses, and what she saw made her gasp.

  "What is it?" Jaekob asked, his voice shaking with exhaustion. He moved his hand to his spear, not that she thought he could use it well at this point.

  It took her a moment to recover from her surprise enough to answer him. "The Sword of Fire... The evil fog that has been trying to push us away since we began—it parts around the sword! Right here near me, it's completely gone until about ten feet behind me. Just get behind me, you'll see what I mean. Oh, and whatever is causing it, I see where it's coming from. There's a building about a block ahead, a big brick warehouse. Do you see it?"

  Jaekob trudged closer to her, getting behind her and her sword. He could only take half steps until, suddenly, he staggered forward as the resistance suddenly vanished. He grinned at her and said, "You weren't kidding. I don't see the warehouse. Can you point it out?"

  Bells looked back at the building and saw it shimmer. Aha! It was disguised with an illusion spell. "Whatever is inside there, protecting this place, is incredibly powerful. And utterly evil."

  "Then I suggest we go find it and kill it. Honestly, I could kick myself for not experimenting with your sword sooner. My little fae is carrying one of the most potent artifacts in all of history and I didn't think to try to use it here."

  She grinned. Partly, she was just happy that the oppressive pressure was gone and she could move and breathe freely, but also because he hadn't called her 'little fae' since before their last disagreement.

  She said, "Don't feel bad. I talk to the thing and I didn't think of it, either. We can leave this part out of your report, okay?"

  Jaekob winked at her and then held his hand out, indicating the road ahead. "After you."

  Bells made a beeline for the shimmering warehouse, Jaekob right behind her. They had only been about a quarter of a block from the next intersection, and when she saw the street sign, a strangled cry escaped as her throat tightened.

  "What's wrong—oh..." he said as he, too, spotted the street sign. "But that's impossible."

  They stood at an intersection only a mile and a half from Mikah's manor. They had walked for hours. She blinked and looked again, but the street sign stubbornly remained unchanged. She let out a frustrated roar, tilting her head back to face the sky, but the roar died on her lips. The sun wasn't where it should have been. "We couldn't have been walking for more than three hours, could we?” And yet, the sun was beginning its descent toward the horizon, and it would be dusk in a half an hour or so. She said, "The whole day passed us by."

  "Do you get the impression that we never would have made it there if you hadn't drawn the sword? I would bet an entire water buffalo's worth of meat that the current we were fighting against goes up into the sky, as well. Even dragons on the wing wouldn't have been able to get to it. What do you think?"

  "It's a good thing, then, that we have the sword. Let's put it to good use and go put an end to whatever is bringing this evil energy into your city." When he nodded and drew his spear, she held her sword in front of her and they marched together down the final stretch. It didn't take long to get there.

  As they approached the warehouse, he said, "Wait a minute. That crater can't be safe. Let's go around."

  "What crater? The warehouse is right there." She pointed.

  Jaekob followed her finger with his gaze toward where she pointed and slowly shook his head. "I see a crater, the kind we saw when we were dealing with the second Great German War with the humans. Do you have any idea how much power casting invisibility requires, even using direct glyphs?"

  She smiled at him, happy that she didn't have to explain what was going on. "Grab hold of my left shoulder and walk behind me. That way, when your senses tell you we should be falling, you won't panic."

  "You wish. I'd be the first one in there if I thought I could do it without your swo
rd leading the way. So, ladies first."

  She almost giggled at that. What a convenient excuse, using one of the human clichés. "Uh huh. Okay, here we go." She marched toward the warehouse.

  As they crossed what she saw as an expansive front yard—the grass having long since turned brown from lack of care—Jaekob's grip tightened on her shoulder and his breathing sounded faster, but he kept up and didn't let go. Not that he couldn't have just summoned his dragon form and flown out.

  When she got to the front door, it opened easily.

  Jaekob gasped. "It's like a bit of darkness made a door-shaped hole in the air in front of you. You want me to go in first?"

  "No, let me send my senses out to see what we can learn before we rush in." She didn't wait for a response, but closed her eyes and focused. Although the sword had sliced through the oppressive fog, she was still exhausted from the day's ordeal to that point. It was all she could do to extend far enough to cover the entire warehouse, even focusing her enhanced senses into a beam rather than a circle around herself.

  And yet, she didn't feel anything. No, that wasn't right. What she felt was nothing—literally. The nothing had its own feel, or rather, it was the absence of sensation, which by its presence was a sensation all its own.

  It also meant she had no idea what it was. "Whatever is inside, I can't sense it. I can sense everything else, though, so it's like an empty hole in the middle of what should be there. I know where it is, but not what it is."

  Jaekob growled and slid past her, stepping through the doorway. "I'm tired of this. Let's end it." His spear was in his hand, the tip glowing brightly. "Hey, that's surprising. I walked past you, but I don't feel the pressure of that invisible black fog you told me about."

  Bells rubbed her tongue against the roof of her mouth, thinking. "It seems the oppression flows out from the warehouse walls, not from whatever is in the middle of the void. Either that, or the fog hasn't picked up enough steam to have much effect this close to the source."