The Shard of Fire

by K. J. Parker

  “You made it!” the young man dressed in dark leather spoke out. Gil turned back and stared at the young man standing next to him.

  “My name is Carmine Kilgarden.”

  Gil looked around, unsure who Carmine was talking to.

  “Hi,” Carmine spoke with emphasis, “and what’s your name?”

  “Lincoln,” Gil said, glancing over Carmine’s shoulder, as his eyes dashed around the field. Many others were drawing the same conclusion Gil had earlier. They were preparing for battle.

  “Pleased to meet you Link!” Carmine’s voice was jovial. Gil stared at Carmine for several long seconds, his brow raised.

  “You chose the skills test also?” Gil’s voice cracked in disbelief. Carmine shrugged and smiled.

  “I’ve never been very keen on books. Too slow, too boring. Besides, the knowledge test is almost impossible to pass, unless you’ve studied in an abbey for the last twenty years. Who has time for that? Not me! Look there, see … those few are the ones that passed it, this year …” Carmine pointed to a small landing along the cliffside. Two stood looking down on the field, an older woman, perhaps fifty, with a young face and long greying hair, along with a tall bald master in a yellow robe, the same that had laughed at Gil earlier that day. “You see? Hundreds tried that test this year, and only two passed, and that’s far more than normal. No thanks. No need to waste my time on the impossible, am I right?”

  Gil shrugged. “Isn’t the skills test harder though?” he questioned.

  “Yes, but it’s a chance at least. You never know what you might get in the test. One year it was a great labyrinth, two dozen people passed that one. Another year it was an illusion test, I heard many who tried ended up lost in the woods for months, and only a handful made it through. Last year it was two on one dueling with the high mages, four group made it, but one group died later from their wounds.” Carmine glanced at Gil, his face was pale. “Hey, don’t worry about it. If it’s too difficult you can always just drop out, its not like they want anyone to die, they do actually need new recruits, sometimes, I think …" Carmine shrugged and grinned.

  “Why did you help me earlier today?”

  Carmine glanced at Gil, smiling. “Well, nobles shouldn’t act that way. Those two were brats. They think their money gives them the right to do anything, but nobles should hold themselves to higher standards, not less.” Carmine stared up towards the castle above the butte, silent for several moments. “Besides if anything, I was saving them from you, am I right?” Carmine laughed and slapped Gil on the back.

  “What do you mean?”

  Carmine stopped looking at the castle and turned towards Gil. His eyes were filled with curiosity and amusement. “Ha! You're a funny guy Link, I mean anyone who’d wear an Ardent Coat must be one bad ass magi, am I right?!”

  “A what?” Gil asked. Carmine glanced at him unsure if Gil was joking or not.

  “An Ardent Coat. You're kidding right? It was the coat worn by the great archmages a thousand years ago. Few people would recognize it of course … but … I mean, not that you're actually wearing one, that would be impossible, but wearing a replica is damn bold no doubt! You're basically proclaiming that anyone who fucks with you is dead meat, I mean that takes some serious balls, especially for someone your age. You must have some serious magics am I right?” Carmine raised a brow, Gil shrugged.

  “Where did you study? What House?”

  “Well … I didn’t actually,” Gil shook his head.

  “Ah … ok … well I see, you had a private master than? … or family magic?” Carmine’s expression was turning from amusement to worry.

  “No, not really …” Gil started to feel uncomfortable with the conversation, and glanced about the field looking for another place to stand.

  “Listen kid, I like you, you seem fearless, I get that, no guts no glory right? but seriously drop out. This isn’t a game. If you don’t know magic you're gonna die here today. Even if you somehow manage to pass, you’ll die up there,” Carmine pointed at the castle, “the magics they teach are dangerous strong magics. You need years of knowledge even to try them. I’ve had the best masters money could buy all my life and I’m still worried I might not make it. Don’t try this, its crazy.” Carmine’s face was filled with serious worry.

  “I don’t have a choice,” Gil shrugged and feigned a half hearted smile. Carmine opened his mouth to ask why, but then a horn blew, the test had begun. Above them, on the small landing a wizard stepped forward. It was the same wizard they had encountered while waiting in line, wearing a long crimson jacket and many gold rings.

  “I advise you all to turn around and go home.” The wizard yelled across the field. There was a long pause as many of the competitors on the grassy slope whispered, rumored or laughed. “Very well, you have been warned. Any who dare to proceed do so at risk of their own life. If you wish to join RavensKeep simply pass through the archway before the sun sets,” he said, motioning to sandstone wall below. The wizard then took a small golden dagger from his waistcoat and sliced his palm, drawing several blood runes atop the landing’s edge wall. For several moments nothing happened, but then the ground shook across the field. Many fell over unable to stand from the earth shaking below them. When it finally stopped and people got back onto their feet, a great massing bulk of a creature stood blocking the archway.

  Eight feet tall, the creature’s body resembled that of a man, though hunched back, and its arms were far longer, nearly touching the ground with enormous six fingered hands. Its skin was a dark ocher color, with thick dirty fur covering its forearms, feet and head. Its face was elongated, like that of a cow mated to a rat, with small narrow eyes and darkened lips. The creature was naked, and aside from its great size and long dirty fingernails, it looked rather gentle.

  Gil looked up at the landing. The two who had passed the knowledge test, along with the Crimson Wizard, and a few others from the castle above, now stood at its edge watching the field below. Most on the field stood silent unsure what to make of the creature, though a handful of contestants had already left crossing back over the bridge. Gil glanced around. Carmine was intently staring at the creature, while to their left, a boy and girl stood whispering to each other, and staring, at Gil. The boy wore a dark vest and tunic, while the girl stood in a long brown coat trimmed with fur. Siblings. Their injuries were gone completely, no bruises, no cuts, no broken limbs, and Gil suddenly realised why. They were druids. The girl smiled, and nodded at Gil, who blushed, and looked back towards the wall.

  The creature stood near the archway, swaying gently in the breeze as the long shadow from the butte covered it, ending but a few feet down the slope. One of the contestants on the field, dressed in blue and black of the House of Wardens, stepped forward. He was tall, strong, and extremely confident. His hands twisted several strange configuration in the air as a thin fog surrounded him. Carmine glanced at Gil who looked confused. “It’s a protective spell, a shield, easy to make and takes little energy to maintain. Stops or reduces basic physical attacks like punches, kicks, claws, bites and scratches. Good against animals. Good if you're not sure what you're up against.”

  “Oh …” Gil replied as the sun continued to set and the butte’s shadow stretched farther from the archway. Carmine stared at him for a moment before returning his gaze to the warden. Most everyone on the field was doing the same, waiting to see what would happen. The creature remained a few feet from the archway, unresponsive to the approaching combatant, or anyone else further down the field. The beast gazed strangely, staring off into the distance. The warden, moving forward, performed several additional gestures, as the fog around him seemed to thicken, forming a hardened translucent shell at its outermost edge.

  “Hmmm … impressive. A third rank barrier on top of a defensive shield. That would also stop most small or slow weapons, knives, clubs, spears, thrown objects like rocks, axes and …” Carmine didn’t finish his thought. As he spoke the the warden ran forward racing to
wards the archway, stepping across the growing shadow counting down to sunset. As he did the creature jolted towards him, moving with lightning fast reflexes the beast jumped at the warden, dashing its long arms through the shell barrier, and the fog shield, as if they weren’t there at all. In a split second the creature's hands wrapped around the warden’s chest, and legs, and tore him neatly into two equal pieces. The creature tossed the upper torso aside, its bloody limp body rolling down the grassy hill towards the other contestants, as the lower half, the legs, made their way into the creature's mouth. Bones, crackling like brittle toffee, could be heard across the field. More than half the contests turned towards the bridge and left.

  “Oh gods—" Carmine breathed, staring at the creature. “Its a Mallock …” Gil looked at him blankly, then glanced at the druid siblings who were pointing at the beast and whispering something Gil couldn’t understand. “Ugh … you're kidding right? Gods Link … I seriously hope our friendship will be of some use to me down the road. A Mallock is an ancient creature, they’re incredibly strong, fast and impervious to most magics, or at least any that I’ve ever heard of. I didn’t think there were any, not anymore, I’ve never actually seen one myself, only heard of them. Gods … anything but a Mallock …” Carmine kicked at the dirt dismayed.

  Several other contests ran forward at the creature as the sun continued to set and the shadow grew. An enchanter tossed a heavy net at the beast, and for a moment it weighed the Mallock down, or so she thought, but it was only a ruse. As the enchanter ran by the creature it tossed the net aside as easily as a leaf and squeezed the woman's body until it burst. Many others tried, most with the same result. Each time as the contestants neared, the beast tore them apart, hit them, bit them, or killed them, yet continued to ignore anyone standing further down on the field. A few managed to hobble away with severe injuries, if they were lucky. Some, tried long distance spells from afar, but with even less effect than those who attacked the beast head on. Their magic spent they left and crossed the bridge to safety. Many more turned from the field and left without trying. The more that failed the more dropped out.

  A few, who thought themselves warrior magi, attacked with enchanted spears, or swords, which did no damage at all. The Mallock brushed their weapons away like tiny flies and dismembered their users with malice.

  A lone alchemist cautiously stood far off and threw a dozen vials, and bottles, each exploding on the creature but with no effect. Time was passing quickly and the looming shadowing marking sunset grew further down the slope. As the alchemist stood mixing new potions for his next attack, the edge of the shadow passed by him and the Mallock dashed forward and punched him with such force his arms and legs broke like thin twigs, as his body rolled and tumbled across the field, smashing into a dozen others.

  Watching the alchemist’s battle, Gil exchanged a quick glance with the druid girl, who seemed to have the same sudden enlightenment as he had. She turned to her brother, shouting something in archaic druid and pointed at the Mallock and the shadow growing from the butte. Gil yelled at Carmine, who smiled, then nodded at the two druids, who nodded back, as all four dashed forward. The druid brother attacked first, throwing a dozen bolts of blue energy at the Mallock, each exploding with a burst and flash of light in front of its eyes, as the creature cried out in pain, shielding its face from the light. Carmine withdrew a golden amulet from his shirt in the shape of a primitive sun, the Kilgarden family crest. Carmine whispered a spell under his breath, holding the amulet before him, as the golden orb began to glow, brighter, first red, then yellow, then white, then a blinding impossibly bright light exploded from the amulet scorching the shadow on the ground, its edge retreating but for a moment. When it did the Mallock stumbled backward racing to stay within the shadow. In the same moment, the druid girl ran forward, her hands glowing with green energy, rolled and sprung up under the beast hammering its chest with the full force of her attack.

  If done on a human, the attack would have caused instantaneous sleep, on the creature it had a similar effect but only for a moment. The Mallock stumbled, dizzy and disoriented, and as it did the four ran for the archway as fast as they could. Unfortunately, at the exact moment of their attacks a shaman from the other side of the field had cast a shadowing spell, hoping to sneak by in the darkness. The shaman's spell spread a thick blanket of darkness across the hill, instantly empowering the Mallock once more. The beast dashed to block the archway, caught the shaman with one hand, squeezing his body like soft mud, while with its other, it slapped the druid girl’s heal knocking her to the ground. Her brother and Carmine stopped a few feet away, screaming at her to get up, for their magics were spent and they couldn’t help anymore. The girl terrified, froze, and for an instant foresaw her horrible death ahead. Gil, standing several feet back did the only thing he could think of and threw his axe.

  The axe whirled through the air, almost comically, and many on the field stopped for a moment, almost laughing, almost. It was a terrible throw, though Gil had never thrown an axe before, and as the blunt end of the axe collide with the beast, its rusty blade exploded in a dozen jagged shards, catching in the creature's eye. The Mallock nearly fell over, screaming in pain, stumbling several feet backward flailing its arms wildly to keep balance, and threw the shaman’s body at Gil, forgetting about the others. With the archway unguarded the druid siblings and Carmine dashed through the opening and up the steps, only realising too late that Gil wasn’t with them.

  The sun was almost down. Many had died. Most had left. Only Gil remained standing on the field, alone. He was sore, bruised and battered. The shaman’s corpse had hammered him, but saved his life also, knocking him down the slope and beyond the shadow’s edge for the time being. Above, on the landing, Carmine and the two druids stood watching intently, for they owed Gil their lives. He had to make it, he had to. Many also stood across the river, and dozens had come down from the castle, new students and old, higher ranks joining those on the landing, others straddling the narrow staircase that clung to the cliff’s side. Even wizards enjoyed a good show it seemed. Gil thought it was ironic, and laughed, how events seemed to be repeating for him, no matter where he went.

  The sky was darkening rapidly as Gil stepped forward. He had no idea what he would do. He quickly inventoried his options. He didn’t know how to create a spell of light, or of green, or blue energy. He didn’t have a magic amulet of the sun, and the axe was destroyed. He did have a sword still, though he wasn’t a warrior and didn’t know if it would be effective on this creature, and doubted if now was the time to find out. He had a nice jacket of course, one which kept him warm when it was cold and cold when it was warm but that didn’t seem very useful at the moment. Lastly, he had the shard, though he didn’t know what good that would do him either. For he didn’t know anything about it, not really, other than everyone in the world wanted it, and wanted to kill him to have it. Autumn was turning out to be surprisingly pleasant this year he thought, and chuckled a bit more.

  Shaking his head, Gil tried to clear his thoughts, right now he had more pressing matters at hand. The sun was almost down. In moments it would be too late even if he made it through the opening. Gil walked slowly towards the Mallock. It still stood near the archway, gently swaying back and forth, waiting at the edge of the growing shadow. Gil thought it could sense him now as he was the only one left on the field, or at least the only one left alive. Dozen of bodies surrounded him. He looked down at the torn limbs and heads and torsos, and a flush of anger surged through him. What kind of a test was this? What kind of place was this? He felt hot all of a sudden, like a fever coursing through his blood, like fire bubbling under the surface. He stood motionless, thinking and sweating profusely. Gil thought of all the people he knew who had died because of him. He thoughts of his friends, of Chap and Lavos and the Girls, dead. He thought of his village, of Astal, dead. And he thought of his parents, dead. Everyone he ever knew and cared for now dead, because of him. He thought of all of them, a
nd the fire inside blazed.

  On the landing the Crimson Wizard watched with keen interest. He too had noticed the boy’s jacket earlier that day, and wondered much. The bald master had also noticed, but didn’t think it funny or interesting. To the House of Mystics legend and myth were everything, nostalgia was a crime and replicas heresy. Below, Gil could feel them watching, them and all those gathered on the stairs and at the river. The last light was failing and as the sky grew darker the Mallock seemed to be stirring awake. Something about it was changing. It yawned and stretched and sniffed about in the air. For the first time since the test began it walked about, restlessly. At first just a few feet left and right. Then more, each time quicker, pacing, dashing. Suddenly Gil realised what was happening. It was a creature of the night. Not just bound to the shadows and sensitive to light, it slept during the day and hunted in the dark. Up to this point it had been slumbering, only reacting when it sensed danger. That was why it didn’t move, didn’t chase, didn’t attack unless in the shadows. Oh gods. The Mallock turned suddenly and stared at Gil. The creature saw him, it smiled, wide, a terrible grin of razor teeth drenched in blood snapped at the boy. Gil looked down again, at the field, at the bodies, and felt a molten churning fire growing inside him. In an instant the Mallock dashed forward racing down the slope at Gil, running at full speed, its fangs extending, biting and snapping and clawing at the earth. It would be over soon. What to do? What to do? The sword? He wasn’t a warrior. A spell? He didn’t know any unless the Mallock liked cabinetry. What to do? What do? The Mallock let out a blood curdling cry, screaming and screeching through the air as it raced forward. What to do? What to do? He didn’t know how to fight, not really, and he didn’t know any spells, not many. But he had seen magics. Terrible magics. Great magics. The Mallock leapt through the air, claws extended, jaws open, screaming, screeching, drooling as it neared, and for a moment Gil smiled.