The elven chieftain’s eyes went wide with shock. “You understand him? How is it you know the ancient tongue?”
Before Randall had a chance to answer, Berry hissed sharply, his face a mask of pure malevolence. The pulse of power nearly bowled Randall over as Berry opened himself to Llandra. He was gathering magic—a lot of it!
“Arkala!” Berry spat the word, and Randall lunged sideways to avoid the roaring stream of fire rushing toward him, dragging Nia with him. If he hadn’t sensed Berry gathering power, there wouldn’t have been enough warning to avoid the flame.
He ended up on the floor in the far corner of the room with Nia on top of him, screaming in terror. As the jet of flame exploded on the wall behind where they had both recently stood, Randall felt another pulse of power. Why is Berry doing this? he thought frantically. And then instinct took over, and he opened himself to Llandra.
He gasped sharply as pain instantly shot down his spine and out to his extremities, but he fought to keep the connection open. If he wasn’t able to draw power, he was going to die here, though he couldn’t understand why. Time seemed to slow as the agonizing torment coursed through his body. It took more force of will to keep the connection open than anything Randall had ever attempted before, and the pain of it was like standing in the heart of a bonfire.
Slowly, the pain grew until Randall felt he would pass out from the sheer agony. It doesn’t matter if Berry kills me, he thought. This is going to kill me anyway.
Then, when he felt he could take no more, his mind became curiously detached. The pain still ravaged his body, but it didn’t seem to matter—all the chaos and confusion around him seemed like a distant annoyance, like the droning of a mosquito. In his mind’s eye, he could see the connection to Llandra, and all that mattered was the power that lay on the other side. Come to me, he crooned to it. And it did.
Power flooded Randall, more strongly than he had ever felt before. It drove the pain and weakness before it, filling him with a wild, giddy exultation. The hairs on the backs of his arms stood up, as if before a lightning strike, and he opened his eyes. Only a moment had passed.
“Yaosheen,” he breathed, weaving all his magic into the Word. A translucent bubble of force sprang into existence around him and Nia as another jet of flame arced toward them to splash ineffectually against the shield.
“A Mage?” the elf chieftain cried. “You brought a Mage into my house?” he roared. Randall only had a moment to realize the chieftain was speaking elvish before exhaustion slammed into him, and he slipped from consciousness.
Chapter 5
Randall woke to the sound of screaming. He must have only been out for a moment, as Berry was still trying in vain to crack his protective shield with jets of conjured flame. Randall knew from past experience that he could create a bubble that would withstand even the donnan’s considerable power, and he had put more power into the spell than he had ever conjured before.
The screaming came from Nia; she was hunched down, knees against her chest, screaming in terror at each fiery blast that Berry launched in their direction. She looked to be in no condition to pose any threat to him, at least for the time being.
Randall took stock of his situation. He was spent, but not nearly as exhausted as he expected to be after such an expenditure of power. In the past, channeling so much magic would have drained him to the point of unconsciousness, and he could have expected to be out for hours, at the least. But he was awake, and alert. His entire body ached, and he felt jittery from the magic that had burned its way through him. Magic! He had gotten his power back! The pain had been incredible, but at least he knew he could touch Llandra if the situation were dire enough.
The elven chief was sitting on the edge of the conference table, watching the bubble intently as the flames slammed into it, over and over again. Eventually the attacks slowed, and then stopped altogether. Either Berry had given up, or he had reached the limit of his ability. He had never seen the donnan wear himself out before, but neither had he seen Berry expend so much at one time, either.
The chief leapt from the table and reached the edge of the bubble in two long strides the moment the attacks ceased. He addressed Randall in the common tongue, his accent thickened with his fury.
“You, Mage! Why have you come to Dyffryn?” he snapped.
“I...I just wanted to see elves,” Randall stammered. He felt relatively safe for the moment, but he had no way of knowing how long his shield would last. He had to diffuse this situation somehow, and fast. “You used to trade with a man named Tobsen. He’s dead. I came in his place.”
“Lies!” the chief spat. “Why would a Mage want to trade in such worthless trinkets? No, you are here for something else. Something worse.”
The elf’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You must somehow know of the news that Mamaeth has brought to us. You are here to attack us and assassinate me, but you did not expect the Old One to be here, did you? He has thwarted your plan before you even had a chance.”
“I don’t even know who Mamaeth is!” Randall protested. “And up until today, I couldn’t even touch Llandra. I burned myself out over a year ago! To even try caused me great pain.”
“Aether-blindness?” the young elf asked quizzically before the severe frown returned to his features. “More lies. It can take years to recover, even tended to by the best healers. I will hear no more of your lies when the truth is so easily revealed.”
The chief barked a word, and Randall flinched backward instinctively. A look of disbelief clouded his features momentarily before being replaced by anger. The elf barked the word a second time, before slamming his fist in frustration against the translucent barrier. The shield must be more than just a physical barrier; it seemed to block spoken magic, as well.
“Your shield will not last forever, Mage,” the chief growled out. “When it falls, then there will be a reckoning. Until then, we will wait.”
Nia scrambled to her feet as the elf turned away. She glanced briefly in Randall’s direction, her eyes wide with fear. It was clear that she was terrified of him now, and she kept as much distance as possible between them in their shared cramped space.
“Rhys! Please forgive me. He smelled like a half-breed. I thought perhaps he was hoping to live among us. I didn’t know he was a Mage! I didn’t know what he was. Even Mages cannot resist the glamour!” She begged in the elven tongue, and Randall was shocked to realize that he could understand her as clearly as if she were speaking his own language.
Why can I understand them? Randall wondered, confused, before realizing that he had understood Rhys speaking as well, just before he blacked out. Something must have happened to him when he overcame the aether-blindness, but he didn’t comprehend it.
Her terror was easier for him to understand. If even Mages were affected by the glamour exuded by the elves, then Randall must represent a grave threat to them: he could touch Llandra and wield power, and yet he was seemingly immune to their most potent natural defense. Trapped in the protective shield with him, Nia must feel powerless and vulnerable in a way that he could scarcely imagine.
Rhys approached the bubble again, inhaling deeply. “Half-breed...yes,” he said, pausing as if savoring the aroma. “Elven blood, unmistakably—but something else, as well. Something I can’t quite put my finger on.”
Turning back to Nia, Rhys contemplated for but a moment. “Nia, you have been a good hunter and valuable ally. But you have brought this Mage into my house, and for that, there are consequences.”
“But I didn’t even know he was a Mage,” she protested. “Owain didn’t catch any scent of Llandra the entire time we were together.”
“Owain is not First Hunter,” Rhys bellowed. “You are. The responsibility lies with you. So be it. Your fates are entwined. Where he goes, you will follow. As you are joined in life, so shall you be joined in death.” The words had the ring of formality. Nia sat down heavily, burying her face in her hands and weeping.
Randall
wanted to call out to the Berry (or was it truly Mamaeth?) but something held him back. If the donnan was truly so revered by the elves, his little friend could immediately clear up this misunderstanding. But for some reason, Berry chose to remain silent, and Randall didn’t understand why. The little sprite’s demeanor was completely different as well: poised, aloof, arrogant. He was not the donnan that Randall had come to know over the last couple of years. Until Randall could figure out what exactly was going on, it would be better to keep this new-found ability to himself.
Returning to the table, the elf chief took a moment to regain his composure before resuming his conversation with the donnan, seemingly ignoring the two interlopers. He spoke openly, having no reason to suspect that Randall could understand him.
“I deeply regret the intrusion, Old One,” he spoke in conciliatory tones. “It appears we have some time before the Mage’s barrier falls. I would be honored to continue our discussion, if such is your wish.”
The imp hissed in annoyance, before turning its attention to Rhys. “So be it,” he spoke in the fluid elvish tongue. “Before his life was claimed by the Mage war, there was a great Summoner in the land.”
He must be talking about Aiden, Randall thought. Rhys nodded politely, as if this were common knowledge, and invited the donnan to continue.
“Like all Summoners, his power was limited. The fae he called forth from our homeland could only stay here a brief moment in time.” The donnan narrowed his eyes and leaned forward, passion giving a sharp edge to his chittering language. “But before he was killed, he had rediscovered the secret to the Passage Device!”
“Is it true?” Rhys gasped.
“It is,” the imp confirmed. “Even now, the veil between our worlds thins. Soon, it will be thin enough for our kin to break the barrier once again, and step foot on this soil of their own volition.”
“But things have changed since the first Crossing!” Rhys protested. “The humans breed like rats,” he complained, vaguely gesturing toward Randall. “Even now, they push us to the edges of their lands, and soon there will be no place for us to go at all.”
“And so, we will push back,” the donnan declared with a hint of steel in his voice. “With the Passage Device, there will be nothing to stop great armies from crossing the barrier. Your kind has lived in this paradise for so long that your grandfather’s grandfather has forgotten what life on Llandra is like. You have grown soft. But I have not forgotten. Those that cross over will be true warriors—and we will finally take our rightful place in this land.”
Nia gasped at the donnan’s latest revelation, and stared wide-eyed at the pair of scheming fae. “It is to be war,” she whispered to Randall, horrified, unaware that he had been able to follow the entire exchange.
“Not if I can help it,” Randall promised, more to himself than to the girl. If he was the only human on Tallia to know of the elves’ plan, then it was up to him to do something about it. But to do that, he had to figure out a way out of the predicament he currently found himself in.
Nia started to say something else, but Randall shushed her and held up his hand. He had to think, and it was hard enough to do with the two fae on the far side of the room plotting his peoples’ demise. He certainly didn’t need her interruptions to add to the distraction. There had to be a way out, if only he could figure it out. He didn’t think that there would be any way he could fight both the elf and Berry at the same time once his shield dropped. And who knew how long that would be?
Randall knew he could maintain the shield by feeding it power, but eventually he would overtax himself—then once the shield fell, he’d be in no position to fight. But if he could add magic to the shield, could he also take it away? A plan was starting to form in his mind, and he closed his eyes and cleared his thoughts, attempting to focus on that bright connection to Llandra that he had seen in his mind’s eye only moments ago.
There it was! There was a thin filament of magic between him, the shield, and his connection to Llandra. If he pushed magic along that connection it would strengthen the shield. Before, he had done so instinctively, but seeing it in his mind’s eye made the process so much more obvious. But if he pulled magic from the shield...
The translucent bubble vanished with an audible pop, interrupting Rhys mid-sentence. Before either he or the donnan had a chance to react, Randall threw his hand out toward the two fae and shouted “yaosheen,” feeding the spell every bit of magic he had just absorbed. A new barrier suddenly appeared, but surrounding both the donnan and the elf!
Berry immediately flew into a fury, attacking the bubble with tooth and claw, to no avail. Rhys pressed his forehead against the nearly-invisible barrier and growled at the back of his throat.
“Nia! Kill the Mage, and free us!” he ground out through gritted teeth.
Nia had jumped to her feet the instant the barrier vanished, and she looked over Randall for a long moment, as if weighing her chances. Randall didn’t think he could fight her and maintain the shield, but he reached down and gripped the handle of his dagger in readiness nonetheless. Finally, she came to a decision and strode toward the shield, pressing her own forehead against it, inches from the elf chief’s face. Her expression was wild and defiant.
“Rhys, son of Enfys, you have tied my fate to this boy’s as in the old custom. I will cause him no harm.” Her own words had that same ring of formality that he had heard when Rhys had pronounced his judgment earlier.
The elf chief growled and screamed nearly incomprehensibly, causing the girl to flinch and retreat a step before regaining her composure. “You have set me against you by your own decree. Where he leads, I will follow. His fate is my own. Perhaps it is my destiny.”
The last bit of bravado seemed to leave her then, and she turned to flee the chamber. She grabbed Randall’s hand as she made her escape, roughly pulling him along behind her. “We need to get out of here, and quickly,” she urged, panic making her voice shake.
They had traveled a half a block before Randall sunk in his heels and pulled them both to a halt. “We have to go back for Eamon,” he declared.
“Impossible,” Nia quickly countered. “The only reason we’re still alive is because Rhys has not been able to raise the alarm. How long do you think that shield of yours will last, anyway?”
Randall closed his eyes for a moment, attempting to feel his connection to the spell. The further they traveled from it, the more tenuous the connection became, and at this range he couldn’t be certain he felt anything at all. He opened his eyes and shrugged weakly.
“Then we have to keep moving. If you want to have any hope at all of rescuing your friend, you have to first stay alive. And I do not think I can stand against the Old One and live. Do you?”
“Maybe...” Randall said thoughtfully. He wasn’t sure what Berry’s limits were, but he did know from past experience that he could wield power as great as any he had seen the donnan bring to bear. It would probably be an even fight, if it came down to it. But even though he felt deeply betrayed and used by the imp, he wasn’t sure he could face him in battle. A part of him still wanted to believe that he and Berry were still friends, and that they had somehow been caught up in a misunderstanding. If only he’d had a chance to talk to him alone…
Nia raised her eyebrows at Randall’s assessment. “Maybe? You are a young, bombastic fool. Mamaeth would easily kill us both. The magic he commands is ancient and powerful. Come on, we have to move. If we make it to the forest, we will hopefully have a chance.”
Chapter 6
They traveled through the city quickly, without speaking, and Randall felt himself tense up every time an elf looked his way. He was certain that they all knew he was a fugitive, and that they would descend upon him and Nia at any moment. Nia, on the other hand, walked calmly and with purpose toward the edge of town. After travelling in this way for a few blocks, she pulled him aside on a quiet side street.
“You have to calm down,” she whispered intensely. �
�Word travels fast in town, so almost everyone we run into will already know that there are humans in Dyffryn. But they won’t know that you’re not under glamour. You keep acting like you’re going to jump out of your skin every time one of us looks at you, and people are noticing. Try to act cheerful and happy to be here.”
Randall nodded nervously. “I’ll try,” he promised.
“All right, let’s go,” she sighed, shaking her head.
Randall tried to follow her advice as they continued on, but it was no use. He just couldn’t act nonchalant; all he could think about was Berry and the elf chief hot on their trail with a mass of elven warriors at their back. It would help if I really was under glamour, he thought to himself with a frown.
But then again, why couldn’t he be? He had felt the constant pressure on his mind ever since he first met the elves, and twice it had been so strong he’d had to steel himself against it. What if he relaxed and let it take him, just a little bit? It was worth a try.
He felt safe with Nia; she could have fought him earlier if she intended to do him harm. Erliand had once said that elves were creatures of complex rules and customs, and he felt that something significant had happened back at the chief’s house. Focusing on that idea, he did his best to relax and focus on her, rather than on their predicament.
Watching her walk in front of him, he couldn’t help but notice that she really was rather striking, in her own way. Though he had initially thought of her as looking childish, he saw that she moved with a purpose and confidence that belied years of experience. A child couldn’t have stood up to Rhys the way she had—she had some fire in her. And from behind, she didn’t really look that young at all—she had nicely rounded hips, well proportioned with her waist and shoulders. Randall found himself mesmerized by the way they swayed back and forth, accented by the tight-fitting leather breeches that she wore. A slow grin tugged at the corners of his lips as he admired her features.
Magic Astray (The Llandra Saga) Page 5
