“Edwin, why does it matter that Aiden knows a new spell?” Randall asked, after Shawncy had stormed out of the home to blow off steam. “Don’t Mages learn new spells all the time?”
Edwin snorted as if the question was ridiculously simple-minded. “Hardly,” he said. “Do you know where the Words you’ve learned came from?”
“Well,” Randall said, thinking. “Tsan’laran is elven. The rest are demonic, right?”
“Yeh,” Edwin grunted. “You know any words from your own tongue that can alter reality? No? Let that sink in a minute. Men don’t have a magical language. Every spell we know has come from one of the fae. You think they give up that knowledge easily? They don’t. Most fae work Llandra with Will. Only the most dangerous and cunning of them use spoken magic.
Elven Words are subtle, dealing with the mind and emotions. Demonic words, as you have seen, are more...dramatic. In all of recorded history, Mages have only learned a score of demonic Words. If Aidan has learned a new one, it does not bode well for us at all.”
Edwin’s answer did not sit well with Randall. In fact, he wished he hadn’t brought it up at all. It took his mind down dark and suspicious paths. He didn’t want to think of Berry as dangerous. He still preferred to think of him as a pet—a benevolent creature that could parrot spells. Why was that so unlikely? He could practically do the same thing.
The next day, Randall found himself camped out under the cold autumn sky several miles northwest of Ninove. Edwin and Shawncy had figured it would be as safe a location as any. Only the forbidding Ironpike Mountains lie in that direction, and so Randall was far from any trafficked road. The chances of running afoul of any Seer or Mage who could detect his use of magic was remote, and so he was free to practice to his heart’s content.
Berry had leapt from the travel sack as soon as they had left the confines of Ninove, eager to be free. After giving Randall a brief scolding, he took his customary place on the boy’s shoulder. Breaking into laughter, Randall found that all doubts that he may have had about his small friend had fled. There was simply no way that the words ‘sinister’ or ‘cunning’ described the donnan. Berry might be ‘dangerous’ perhaps, but only in the best sense of the word. Randall was relieved to know that his friend had his back when the chips were down and he was fighting for his life.
Randall was beginning to understand why Master Erliand had chosen to live so far from Geldorn. Out here, away from people, he and Berry were free to be themselves. They didn’t have to constantly be on guard for fear of alerting an ever-present enemy.
With Berry for company, Randall was beginning to feel like he could live out in the countryside and away from people forever. Of course, he couldn’t really do that, so long as the Rooks were in a position to hunt down those of his kind. Even living the life of a hermit, they would eventually track him down. They had found Master Erliand, after all.
True to his word, Edwin had given Randall a new Word to practice. He had been unable to repeat it back to the old Mage that day, owing to his abused and ravaged throat, but Edwin repeated it carefully several times, to ensure that he could remember it.
‘Alwyn-vysha’ was an elven word, used for hiding one’s presence. Being spoken magic, the spell was ‘external’ magic, and couldn’t be used on oneself. So, while it didn’t exactly make the caster invisible, it did the next best thing. Like all elven magic, it affected the mind of the target. Basically, anyone within range of the spell should simply fail to see Randall as he moved among them.
You don’t need to be invisible if nobody really notices you, Randall thought. Of course, if he made too much racket, or forced someone to look right at him by moving directly in front of them, the effect would be lost. But for all practical purposes, he would be invisible. Anyone who would normally see and take note of him would find something more interesting to look at when he passed their way. Perhaps they would discover their boot laces needed retying, or perhaps they would find their attention caught by a bird or a pretty girl walking by. Those caught in the spell’s power would see virtually anything else when Randall passed their way.
It only took him a few tries to get the knack of the spell, though it didn’t seem to work on Berry at all. Randall would gather power, which came easily to him now, and he could feel it infusing the Word, joining power and purpose to create the spell. But, stubbornly, Berry would act as if nothing had happened. He would continue to chitter angrily at Randall whenever he was hungry, and in all ways behave completely normally. Randall began to suspect that he was doing something wrong, at least until dinnertime came around.
Randall began checking his snares, hoping one of them contained a rabbit or a woodchuck that he could use to supplement the night’s meal. Near one of his snares he spotted a large white hare that had evaded his trap. He froze, and the hare’s head popped up, sniffing the air as if sensing danger. He knew there was no way for him to catch the animal now, until he was suddenly struck by a flash of inspiration. He began drawing power from Llandra gently, so as not to spook the animal, and when he felt he had a sufficient amount, he spoke the Word he had been practicing all day, pitching his voice to just carry across the field.
The rabbit twitched its whiskers once, and then went back to nosing around the base of a bush, turning its back on him. His heart racing, Randall crept up on the animal until he was within arm’s reach. The animal never even looked up from its feeding as he eased his dagger out of its sheath and pounced.
We’ll be having meat with dinner tonight! Randall thought to himself proudly as he quickly skinned and cleaned his kill.
Berry sat on his haunches, eagerly sniffing the cook-pot as Randall prepared their evening’s repast. As he often did, Berry would scamper off and bring back bits of leaves and twigs, hoping to make his own contribution to the meal. Randall would consider each one with mock seriousness before rejecting them. During one trip, Berry struggled to offer a plant with several large leaves, each much bigger than he was. Randall laughed at the sight of his friend pulling the uprooted plant this way and that, chittering angrily at it when the leaves would snag on a twig or a clump of grass. After watching him battle with the haul for a few moments, Randall got up to relieve his friend of the burden.
“Mustard greens!” Randall exclaimed as he examined the offering. “These will go great, actually!” He quickly stripped the stems from the large leaves and added them to the pot while Berry purred contentedly.
After the evening’s meal, both companions curled up under the large woolen blanket that was one of the few luxuries that he allowed himself for the trip. Soon they were fast asleep.
Sometime later, Randall was awakened by the sound of rapidly approaching hoof beats. Quickly rolling out of his makeshift bed, he grabbed his dagger and prepared to defend himself if necessary. He didn’t sense that the midnight visitor had gathered any magic, but Randall prepared himself for any possibility. He wasn’t supposed to return to Ninove for two more days, and only Edwin and Shawncy even knew where he was going to be camping, and even then, they only knew the general area.
Randall spotted the rider long before he reached the camp. It was Shawncy! He was easy to spot because of the long pole he held extended over his horse’s neck, like a lance. At the tip of the pole was a globe that was glowing so brightly that it made the area for a dozen yards around the horse as well lit as if it were the middle of the day. An elf light? Randall had heard about them in the folk stories his grandmother told him at bedtime as a small child, and he was certain he was seeing one of them now.
He waited patiently for Shawncy to approach, though he didn’t sheath his dagger. The reckless way that Shawncy was riding across the plains belied some sort of danger, and Shawncy’s body language screamed of panic. He didn’t have long to wait before he learned the news.
“Randall!” Shawncy cried as soon as he was within earshot. “You have to run!”
“What is it?” Randall asked as Shawncy closed the distance. “What’s happened?
”
“It’s Edwin,” Shawncy breathed, sucking air in large gasps between words. “He’s been working for the Rooks!”
“No!” Randall cried in disbelief.
“It’s true,” Shawncy said, as his breathing began returning to normal. “He’s been giving them information for months, waiting until all of us were in Ninove, so they could take us all out in one clean strike. When Aidan heard about your gifts, I guess he decided to act early. They attacked all of our safe houses tonight! Many of us have already died. The battle still rages in the capital, but it’s hopeless. We’ve lost,” he finished with an air of despair in his voice, looking down at the ground in front of him.
The news was like a flood of ice water down Randall’s spine. Along with the shock came a sense of distaste for the Mage in front of him.
“And you’re still saving your own skin, I see,” Randall spat.
The accusation rocked Shawncy’s head back as if he’d been slapped. “No, you ungrateful little bastard! I’m trying to save yours! Aiden is on his way here to take care of you personally while you’re alone and unprotected! That’s why you have to run! I barely made it in time to warn you!”
Randall sighed, and voiced the decision he had been forming in the back of his mind for months “I will not run,” he declared resolutely. For better or worse, he was going to face Aiden here, and now. Someone had to stand up to him. Someone had to make him pay for all of the pain he had caused. “I will fight him here. And if it is my fate, I will die here. But I am through running.”
“He’s not alone, Randall. He’s got Mages with him! You can’t win!”
“We can win,” Randall said, holding onto a hard knot of confidence in the pit of his stomach. All fear had fled, and he felt death on the wind and on his fingertips. He felt powerful, and for once, it wasn’t Llandra whispering in his ears that made him feel so.
“Randall, please!” Shawncy pled, begging, his horse pawing the earth nervously.
“You have to trust me,” Randall said, calmly. “I’m going to show you something, and you have to trust me, all right? We aren’t the only ones who will be standing against Aiden.”
The panic in Shawncy’s eyes was momentarily replaced by confusion.” What do you mean?” he asked.
“Berry,” Randall called. “Come on, Berry. It’s time you stopped hiding.”
At Randall’s call, the little imp leapt from the bedroll where it had been concealed under the blanket, and scampered up his arm to his favorite spot.
Shawncy dropped the elf light he was holding and his eyes grew wide as saucers, and his jaw worked up and down wordlessly for several moments. It was as if this final surprise had knocked all sense from him. “A donnan!” he finally managed to work out, still staring at the little man. He instinctively pulled on his horse’s reins, causing it to dance backwards several steps.
“This is my friend,” Randall said. “His name is Berry. He will fight with us.”
Comprehension flooded Shawncy’s features, followed quickly by fear and revulsion. After several long seconds, he said “Randall. I...I can’t. I can’t do it.” His eyes had never left the little imp crouched on Randall’s shoulder.
“A donnan!” Shawncy whispered again, almost as if he were talking to himself instead of Randall. Suddenly, he wheeled his horse around and fled into the night without another word.
“Still saving your own skin, I see,” Randall whispered bitterly to the Mage’s fleeing back.
Chapter 18
Randall saw the approaching Mages before they saw him. He had taken the pole with the elf light that Shawncy had dropped, and stood it upright in the middle of his camp. Then he and Berry hid in the tall grass, some distance away. He didn’t have long to wait before a knot of four or five men came into view. They were traveling more carefully than Shawncy had been, the bright moonlight overhead giving them barely enough illumination with which to make their way. When they spotted the elf light, the lead rider motioned for the others to stop. He dismounted, and the others followed suit. There were five of them; too many for Randall to take out on his own!
They were too far away for Randall to make out any facial features, but as they crept up on his camp, the leader drew a long, slender wand from his side. It was Aidan! It had to be! Randall’s heart hammered in his chest as he watched the group move closer to his camp. If he was going to have any chance at all, he was going to have to take them by surprise.
Randall took a deep breath and opened himself wide to Llandra when they were about fifty yards away. He feared the power wouldn’t come, as nervous as he was, but the magic flooded into him like a river. Instantly, the fear and doubt left him, and he felt suffused with power. Why was he hiding from these men? These...insects? He knew he could crush them easily, with but a word. He began to rise, as his mind shaped the power.
No! Randall cried to himself, fighting down the urge to show himself and cause the men to cower before him. It’s just the power euphoria. Keep your wits about you!
A half a heartbeat later, he had gathered enough power for what he intended to do. If he was going to win this battle, he was going to have to do it in the first blow.
“Grd’zx’kan!” Randall shouted from his hidden vantage, pushing out power to join with the word, giving it life.
But he was too late! As he began shouting the word, he felt Llandra open itself to the men like a whip crack in his mind. They had reacted so quickly! And they were so strong! As the sky opened up, a chorus of shouts came from the group of men, each desperately trying to shield himself from the white hot death from above.
Lighting flashed down into the men, blinding Randall with its intensity. The thunderclap knocked him backward, and smaller forks of lightning shot outward from his target, setting the tall grass alight. It took Randall’s vision several seconds to clear, but when it did, he saw that of the five men he had tried to kill, three were still standing. And one of them was Aidan! Weariness crashed down on his shoulders as the cost of the spell took its toll, and he struggled to catch his breath to begin the fight in earnest.
“He’s weakened himself,” Aidan called out to the two other Mages still standing. “Now we just have to find him.”
Randall felt Aidan draw power as he barked a series of short demonic words. The grass fire nearest to the Mage appeared to grow brighter, as if being fanned by a brisk wind. The flame grew, rising up like a bonfire, until the tongues of flame leapt higher than the Mage’s head. Then, from the heart of the flames, stepped a huge dog. Berry hissed a warning, tensing up on Randall’s shoulder.
It wasn’t a dog! It walked like a dog, and vaguely resembled a dog, but instead of fur, it appeared to be covered in porcupine quills. The creature rose up on its hind legs like a squirrel, sniffing the air tentatively. The creature’s mouth had shaggy protuberances that looked like spider fangs, dripping a viscous fluid. Upright, the monstrosity easily stood a hand span taller than Aidan! Then another stepped from the flames!
“Find him,” Aidan commanded, and the twin horrors fanned out and began nosing the tall grass, like bloodhounds looking for a scent. Every so often the creatures would raise their heads, as if sniffing the air, and Randall would feel an odd pulse from Llandra, almost as if the aberration was casting a spell. Each time it happened, Randall could feel a faint answering pulse, from himself! They were tracking him! Through Llandra!
Randall struggled to control his breathing, as he fought the weariness that dogged him. He hoped that he had time to regain some of his strength before he had to face the beasts. Berry hissed and chittered, pacing agitatedly on his shoulder. But he did so quietly, as if he knew that they must remain hidden. But time was not a luxury that Randall had. After only moments, the nearest of the beasts gave out a high pitched howl, and began loping directly for their position! Berry leapt from Randall’s shoulder screaming a challenge, high pitched and menacing, like the cry of a bobcat.
As Berry crashed through the tall grass toward the pair of m
onstrosities, Randall felt the donnan gather a tremendous amount of power from Llandra. And the instant he did so, fire roared toward him from the surviving Mages. They were trying to kill Berry! As the flames raced toward the imp, Randall shouted out the Word that would shield his friend, pushing the small amount of power he had left into the spell. A translucent bubble popped into place around the imp, only to be shattered moments later as it was struck by twin columns of flame. Berry screamed his own spell, and the nearest dog beast exploded from the inside out.
“He has help!” Aidan screamed. “There are two of them! Kill them both!”
Randall again opened himself to Llandra, feeling the power surge within him. He felt achy and his insides felt abused as he drew upon more power from the fairy world. Another column of flame roared his way, and he dodged, rolling to one side. He quickly popped up and pointed a finger at the first Mage he saw, shouting “Vinn!” The word ripped through his already raw vocal chords, leaving Randall retching and coughing, but it had the desired effect as the Mage burst into a spray of guts and gore.
As Randall doubled over, Aidan shouted out an unfamiliar Word. Before Randall could react, hot metal shards exploded out from the other Mage’s outstretched hand, spraying shrapnel into tall grass around where Randall had dropped. Randall felt like he had been kicked by horse as one of the pieces slammed into his shoulder, and another lodged itself deep into his right thigh. Unable to help himself, he fell to the ground, crying out in pain. Dimly, he was aware of a strong pulse of power from Berry, and the death cry of another one of the Mages. Randall hoped it was Aidan.
Randall rolled over and struggled to his knees. Looking over the grass, he saw Berry and the last dog beast locked in mortal combat, fighting fang and claw. Surprisingly, the little imp was holding his own, scratching and tearing at the monster. A short distance away, Aidan stood, watching the pair fight, a look of surprise on his face. He was completely absorbed in the battle, and Randall knew that this was his last chance.
A Touch of Magic Page 30
