Spellsmith & Carver: Magicians' Rivalry

by H. L. Burke

  His eyes shot to the study door. Rill emerged, her arms crossed. “If you were going to let me nap, you could’ve done so yourself so we’d both be fresh.”

  “Yes, well, I had an idea about using an expansion spell to enlarge a natural rift to where Jericho could get through it. I didn’t want to lose focus on it.”

  Rill’s face brightened. “And?”

  He grimaced. “Didn’t come to anything. There are a lot of spells for locating rifts and even lengthening the time they spend open, but nothing to suggest they can be expanded. At least not to the size needed for a man to pass through.”

  “Oh.” She sat next to him and rested her head on his shoulder. Her tears seeped through the cloth of his shirt.

  “Hey, please don’t cry. We’re still working on it. He still has a chance.”

  “I just can’t help wondering what it’s like for him, there, alone. He must be so frightened. He’d never let on, of course.” She sniffed back tears. “He pretends to be a big, strong rock of a man who doesn’t know the meaning of pain or fear, but that’s not who he is, Aurry. Not really. He has a good heart, and a good heart can feel pain and loneliness. I wish I could just get a message to him, somehow. Even if I can’t save him, if I could just send him a note.”

  “That might be possible.” Auric sat up straighter. “The natural rifts might be large enough to send a message through, a rolled up scrap of paper, maybe … and if you can send through a scrap of paper, you can send a homing spell!” He leaped to his feet. “That’s it. Rill, are Father’s rift detection wards still working?”

  “They should be.” She ran to the nearest ward. “But if a rift opens, how will Jericho know to look for the spell?”

  “All the rifts are overseen by my brother, even the natural ones. He will know if anything passes through them.” A smile crept over Mother’s face. “Brilliant, Auric.”

  “I’ll make the homing spell!” Rill volunteered. “Jericho showed me how before you two went into the Fey Lands the first time.” She pulled a stylus from somewhere in her tangled locks and fetched two pieces of paper. “I was actually practicing them when Janus captured me. Speaking of which, what happened to my embroidery? I found my needle stuck in the parlor carpet and my hoop shattered nearby, but the project I was working on was nowhere to be seen. I half wondered if Janus took it.”

  “Not Janus. Jericho.” Auric snorted. “He was clinging to that scrap of cloth like a lost child holding onto a favorite toy.”

  Rill paused. “Oh. Do you think he still has it?”

  “I imagine so.” He rubbed his lower back, trying to work out the kinks in his spine caused by slouching over books and quires all night. “Does it matter?”

  “It might.” She pulled something from the cloth of her bodice. Too small to be a quire. A needle?

  Pitter-patter steps hurried up the stairs, and Jaspyr flew across the workshop. He leaped into Rill’s arms, knocking her back onto the table. She laughed as the mechanical fox nosed her face with his copper snout. “Oh, Jaspyr, boy, I missed you.” Jaspyr gave a gentle whimpering whine, like the slow escape of steam from a kettle.

  Finally Rill managed to calm him and set him down, but he remained glued to her feet.

  “So we just wait for a natural rift and hope it is big enough to send a homing spell through?” Rill asked.

  “I guess. Didn’t Father have a map that showed where they usually opened?”

  “Honestly, the most likely place is right here,” Mother said.

  Auric blinked at her. “Really?”

  “In the study, I mean.” She nodded towards the door. “Janus and I used to talk about rifts a lot, little else to do but converse when you’re stuck in a web, and as they were Janus’s primary preoccupation, they became mine. The unnatural rifts tend to train the natural ones over time. He noticed that they would form more frequently over where magicians had been playing with them. With the amount of rift spells opened from that study over recent days, I’d set up shop there.”

  Father entered the workshop. He cast his gaze over his gathered family and smiled. “Annie is already bustling about the kitchen. I asked her to send breakfast up here. Have we made any progress?”

  “I think so.” Auric filled his father in.

  “Excellent.” Hedward grinned. “If all goes well, perhaps I’ll be yelling at the scamp to keep his paws off my little girl by nightfall.”

  Rill turned scarlet.

  Now that they had a plan, the waiting seemed interminable. Auric paced for a bit, then sat and experimented with rolling the homing spells into tighter and tighter coils. “Rifts can be tiny,” he pointed out. “Don’t want our plans to fall through because the paper won’t fit.”

  They took turns napping. Auric put his off until last. Though he knew any member of his family could handle slipping the paper quire through the rift, the idea of not being able to oversee it terrified him. Even so, when he finally lay upon his bed, sleep overcame him instantly. When he awoke, the sun was pink on the horizon. He swallowed. Jericho couldn’t have much longer.

  Rushing up the stairs, he found his family sitting around the work table. From Rill’s drawn face, he knew the answer, but he still asked. “Any rifts?”

  Father shook his head. “We should’ve had one by now. I’ve spent years tracking them, and three or four per day is about average.”

  “Maybe they are forming out of range of our wards.” Auric pinched the bridge of his nose.

  “Maybe, or something about the barrier is stopping them altogether.” Father frowned.

  Rill dropped her eyes, and Mother slipped an arm around her shoulders.

  Auric sat with his face in his hands. Out of other ideas, he began to pray. Please, God. He can’t last much longer in there. Don’t let me fail him again. He deserves better than this. Please.

  A touch on his shoulder jerked him back to the present. Hedward smiled down at him. “You’ve done all you can, Auric. Please, give yourself some grace.”

  “It wasn’t enough.”

  They sat in silence, the room darkening around them.

  A flash of blue light from the direction of one of Father’s wards sent everyone crashing to their feet. They swarmed the ward.

  “It’s small … but close.” Hedward wiped his brow. “Not in the study, but right outside.”

  “Probably the garden. That was where Janus usually made his entry rifts,” Mother said.

  Auric snatched up a quire and dashed out a teleportation spell. In a flash, he no longer stood in the workshop but rather in the middle of his family’s overgrown garden. The greenhouse glinted a few feet away, the glass panels alive in the glow of the setting sun. He ignored it and scanned for another source of energy. A familiar prickle drew him forward. There, a beacon of blue light hovered about two feet above the ground. His hands clenched. It was smaller than he’d hoped, little more than a pinprick. He reached into his pocket for one of the homing spells, already wound into a tight scroll. Kneeling so he could be at eye-level with the rift, he pushed the spell into it. The paper brushed the edges, the Fey energy sweeping over it. The spell crumbled to ash in his hands.

  “Blast it!” He gritted his teeth and pulled another from his pocket. He had five, but none were thinner than the first. Rolling it between his fingers, he tried to make it smaller. Again, he pushed it into the rift. Again it broke apart. “Oh, come on!”

  Branches cracked, and he looked up as Jaspyr barreled through the hedge towards him.

  “Auric!” Rill rushed down the path. “Did it work? Did you get it through?”

  He shook his head. “I’m sorry, not yet. It’s just too narrow. I’ll keep trying, though.”

  “Wait, let me.” She sat beside him and drew a needle from where it had been stuck in her bodice. “This will fit, don’t you think?”

  He blinked. “I suppose, but what good will it do?”

  “It depends.” She took a long white thread from her apron pocket, wet the end, and threaded th
e needle. “Hopefully Jericho will put it together.” She shoved the needle through the rift. It fit perfectly. The two siblings stared at the blue point of light for several heartbeats, then it blinked out. Rill’s bottom lip shook. “This is our last chance, isn’t it? If this doesn’t work, we’ve truly lost him.”

  Auric drew her closer. “Hope for the best, Rill. Jericho’s strong. If anyone can find his way home to us, it’s him.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Jericho closed his eyes. Fey energy penetrated his skin like wasp stings. In his desperation, he’d smashed all the empty bottles of rosemary oil, attempting to scrape any residue from the inside of the glass. It hadn’t made a difference. Within a few hours of that attempt, his legs had given out. After that he leaned against the stone walls, staring out into Janus’s lush garden, and allowed himself to drift off to sleep.

  Giving up didn’t come naturally to Jericho. Even after he’d activated the spell and the rift had snapped shut, he’d gone through all the burnt out quires, trying to work various spells. Some of them had bought him time. He’d managed a shield of sorts which held the energy at arm’s length for a few hours.

  Now, however, pain shot through him, making it hard for him to think. His hand strayed to his vest pocket. The soft cloth of Rill’s embroidery met his calloused fingers, and he smiled. Yes, they hadn’t had the time he would’ve liked, but the memories were still sweet. He drew a labored breath.

  “Are you well?” a voice asked.

  He opened his eyes to find Janus hovering over him.

  “Not really.”

  The Fey knelt and placed the back of his hand on Jericho’s forehead. “I wish I could do something to numb the pain, but Fey magic is unpredictable when it comes to humans. Anything I do might hurt as much as help.”

  “It’s not so bad,” Jericho lied.

  Janus’s unnerving blue eyes drilled into him. “It could’ve been my nephew here instead of you, you know. Or my niece. She wouldn’t have to die, even. This realm isn’t toxic to her the way it is to you.”

  “But she would’ve been stuck here, away from her family.” Jericho shook his head. “I couldn’t let that happen.”

  “Oh, you could’ve.” Janus tilted his head. “The thing is you didn’t. Why?”

  Jericho stared past Janus, into the thick tangle of plants. There had to be a lilac bush somewhere in that jungle. Even now, the scent tickled his nose, bringing back memories of Rill’s smile and laugh. “I realized a long time ago that being a man meant being a barrier between those you love and pain, even if it means taking the blows yourself. If you can’t protect the people you care about, what’s the point?” He laughed. “Rill, I’ve cared about for a few years now. Auric … well, that was a surprise even to me. I would do it again, though.”

  “Well, thank you. I know as uncles go, I must seem a bit of a cur, but they are my sister’s children, and I’m relieved I’m not watching one of them suffer right now.” Janus stood.

  Jericho raised an eyebrow. “Glad I could take that off your conscience.”

  Janus winced. “That came out wrong. Look, is there anything I can do for you? Anything at all to make this easier?”

  “Not that I can think of.” Jericho shrugged. His lids felt heavy, but somehow he knew if he fell asleep this time, he wouldn’t wake up. The terror of that thought jolted through him, keeping him conscious. He wasn’t ready for death, not just yet.

  Janus pushed his hair back from his forehead. “I think I have an idea.” He worked the air between his hands like a sculptor forming clay. The air took form, then color. When Janus withdrew, a life-sized replica of Rill stood beside him.

  Jericho’s breath caught in his throat. “Thank you,” he whispered.

  “I’ll be nearby. If you need anything, just let me know.” Janus bowed and walked away.

  Jericho stared at the image of Rill. It looked so much like her, down to the twinkle in her beautiful blue eyes, only frozen, unmoving. “I never told you I loved you,” he whispered. “It seemed a bad idea. Even now, I’m not sure your father would’ve let us be together, Rill, but blast it, I wanted you. I wanted you so badly. I hope you’ll be happy.” He concentrated on the memory of her touch.

  Worry for his mother and younger siblings tried to invade his reverie, but he’d just have to trust they’d be all right. His uncle had already promised his brother the shop, and his sister and mother would be cared for as well. It wasn’t as if they needed Jericho, though they would miss him. He’d miss them, too. Not quite in the visceral way he was missing Rill at that moment, but it would’ve been nice to say good-bye, to let them know one more time that he loved them, that he’d do anything to protect them, that he’d always be their big brother.

  His chest tightened. He inhaled sharply, but the air seemed full of splinters, stabbing into his lungs and throat. A coughing fit overtook him.

  Janus rushed towards him. “Are you all right?”

  “No.” Jericho scowled. “I thought we’d established that a while ago.”

  Janus frowned. “Sarcasm, one of my least favorite aspects of the human race.”

  “Get used to it.” Jericho chuckled. “I’m as human as they come.”

  “I actually came out here because of this.” Janus held out a glinting silver object, thin and pointed. “I can detect when something comes through my rifts, but when I saw what it was … well, I’m a bit perplexed. Do you have any idea why someone would send this through?”

  He passed Jericho the thin rod of cold metal. A tail of thread clung to the end. A needle? Rill! But why would she send a needle unless …

  Jericho’s heart rate quickened. He pulled Rill’s embroidery from his pocket and stared at the stitches. Yes, they were magical symbols, and not just any magical symbols. “A homing spell,” he breathed. “Oh, Rill, you brilliant little vixen.” He closed his eyes and thought back to his mother, forcing him to help with the mending when he was a small child. A grin crept across his face. He could do this. “No hard feelings, Janus, but if this works, I hope to never see you again.”

  Janus blinked at him, but Jericho didn’t want to wait long enough to explain.

  Taking the needle between his fingers, he carefully spread out the embroidery. Yes, she’d only left the activation symbol unfinished. The needle pierced the cloth, forming the final stroke. The air about him glimmered. Lights swirled around him, dizzying, so much so that in his weakened state he had to close his eyes. His stomach heaved, and he collapsed against soft, yielding carpet.

  “Jerry!” Arms surrounded him. He pried his eyes open and found himself staring into Rill’s face. Her mouth called to him. Oh, how he’d missed that mouth. He pulled her against his chest, pressing his lips into hers. Her hair fell about him, sweet with the scent of lilacs. The pain of the Fey energy fled his being. He squeezed her closer. Fingers tightening into his chest, she moved against him, sending fire through his veins.

  The sound of a throat clearing alerted him to the fact that they weren’t alone. He sat up, nearly knocking her from on top of him.

  Auric and Master Spellsmith stared down at them, identical, eyebrows-arched expressions on their faces. Rill flushed and stood. They were in the parlor, a fire crackling in the fireplace, the heat nothing compared to what now raged beneath Jericho’s skin.

  “Uh, hello, sir.” Jericho swallowed. “We haven’t had that talk yet, have we?”

  A smile played about Hedward’s lips. “I sort of had it figured out already, Jericho. She could do a lot worse.”

  Relief swept through Jericho.

  Rill stroked the side of his face. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, of course.” He tried to stand, but his knees buckled, and he toppled to the floor again.

  “Careful!” Auric rushed to prop him up.

  Jericho tried to protest, but the spinning in his brain swallowed the words.

  Auric pulled him to his feet. “Let’s get you someplace where you can lie down.”


  In spite of his limbs feeling like limp string, Jericho refused to put his full weight on Auric. Instead, he used one hand against the wall to balance as they slowly made their way from the parlor to Jericho’s small room in the servants’ quarters. Jaspyr frisked about their feet, making it even more difficult.

  “Stop it, boy.” Rill scooped up the fox. “Sorry. He’s excited to have you home.” She then hurried ahead.

  By the time they reached the room, Rill had pulled back the covers on the bed and drawn the curtains.

  Jericho plopped onto the bed, the mattress sagging beneath him. He shrugged off his vest and bent down to remove his boots. The dizziness escalated, and he had to tuck his head between his knees to keep from passing out.

  “I’ve got it.” Rill caressed his shoulder. She tugged off his boots.

  Jaspyr yipped and hopped onto the bed.

  “Oh, you pest.” Rill snatched up the fox. “I’ll get him out of here so you can rest.”

  Jericho opened his mouth to beg her not to leave, but somehow she whisked out of the room before he could speak.

  “You all right?” Auric asked.

  Jericho forced himself to sit up and nod.

  “You look terrible.”

  “Thanks.” Jericho fell onto his pillows. “I’ll be fine. Quick nap and a good meal then back to work.” He smiled.

  “Father has some sort of fennel tea concoction he says can fight against the effects of excessive Fey energy.” Auric turned towards the door.

  Panic spiked in Jericho’s chest. Suddenly he was back in the Fey world, alone, waiting to die. “Auric—” He stopped himself, uncertain what he’d been about to say, but certain it would’ve been embarrassing.

  Auric tilted his head. “What do you need?”

  “Thank you, for any part you had in getting me home.” That needed to be said anyway.

  “It was as much Rill’s doing as mine, and after what you did, I owed it to you.”

  Jericho’s hands still shook. It was ridiculous—he was home, safe—but still, part of him was terrified to be alone.