Spell Fade

by J. Daniel Layfield

  Roal’s entire body convulsed at the snap, and hoarse screams, little above a whisper, followed.

  “I’m sorry, Roal,” Jarel said, patting Roal on the back. There was a gentle laugh as he explained, “I wasn’t thinking when I snapped my fingers. You’re all right,” he soothed. “No more broken bones, yet.” Roal settled somewhat and struggled to control his shaking.

  “What I meant to say,” Jarel continued, “was that maybe it would help if you knew exactly what was coming.” He let his fingers drag across Roal’s body as he circled back around to face him. “That way you can focus all of your attention on one point, and then surely the scale will work.” Jarel stepped away from Roal and raised his wand into the air.

  “It’s going to be your left leg this time. I’m going to completely shatter your femur, sending pieces of it flying in all directions.” He paused for a moment, then added, “Now that I think about it, I should probably back up a bit.” Jarel took several steps back as Roal began to shake his head again.

  “P-Please, sire,” he managed to croak out. Jarel ignored him.

  “Now concentrate,” Jarel said, wand ready. He closed his eyes and could feel Roal gathering his strength, focusing on the leg. Then he felt Roal draw on the scale, and the power pushed against him. It pulled at his own will, trying to drain it, to overwhelm him. It was much stronger than before. Still wrong though, and not good enough.

  “That almost tickles,” he said, snapping his fingers a third time. Bits of bone and blood showered his robes, and he brushed idly at them, wishing he had moved back even a little further, as he strolled back to Roal.

  Without the use of his arms, Roal’s head crashed against the stone floor as his body collapsed to the ground. His mouth opened and closed soundlessly, and blood seeped out from under his head. Jarel sneered down at Roal’s broken body, and snapped his fingers one last time, shattering his right leg. Roal responded with little more than a groan.

  Jarel squatted down next to Roal, avoiding the pools of bodily fluids, and grabbed Roal’s chin. His eyes were half-closed, and rolling up to reveal the whites. Jarel shook Roal’s head vigorously.

  “Don’t you pass out,” he commanded. “This part is important.” His eyes stopped rolling, fixing on Jarel’s face. His mouth tried to move, but Jarel squeezed harder on Roal’s jaw and through his own clenched teeth said, “Now is the time to listen.” Roal blinked and moaned. Jarel leaned in close. “You know nothing of the power this scale holds or how to wield it. Remember that. Always.” Roal managed a single nod, and Jarel released his grip, dropping Roal’s head back to the floor.

  Jarel found the chain around Roal’s neck and snatched it off, revealing the single dragon scale. The dull brown triangle encased in a cage of golden strands twisted slowly over Roal, until Jarel placed it on Roal’s chest. Jarel closed his eyes, placed his hand above the scale, and quietly began reciting an incantation. A low hum matching the tone of his voice filled the room, as if the surrounding stones had joined the chant.

  Jarel opened his eyes, and silence fell across the room. He reached out with a single finger, gently touched the scale, then rose and walked back to his throne. He kept his back to Roal, and shielded his eyes as a brilliant white light radiated out from the scale.

  Roal’s screams again echoed through the room, fading as the light did. The silence that followed lasted only a moment, broken by a sharp inhale from Roal. His eyes opened, and he sat up, his hand reaching for the loose scale. His breathing was rapid as he looked down at his body, inspecting it with his free hand. Every bone and joint was in place, as was each thread of his clothing. Not even a stray drop of blood remained on the floor.

  “Stand up,” Jarel said, turning back around. Roal placed both hands on the floor, testing them with his weight. Convinced they would hold, he planted both feet on the ground and slowly pushed himself up. He flexed his elbows and knees, feeling them stretch, stiff at first, as if they were new, but soon becoming just a normal movement. He finally looked up and found Jarel staring at him. Roal lowered his head.

  “Thank you, sire, for teaching me humility.”

  “And that,” Jarel said, “is the other important lesson you could have learned from the farmer.”

  The scale hung inches from Roal’s bowed face and he stared silently at its crude form, amazed by the power contained within. He slipped the cool scale back into his shirt as he raised back up.

  “And what did you learn from him, sire?” Roal asked.

  Jarel smiled and draped himself across the throne again before answering. “The heir is on the move, and has found allies.”

  “Already? I expected the wizard to wait as long as possible. When do we attack?”

  “Sometimes I believe your eagerness may be your biggest weakness. Do not forget, we have promised him a month.” Roal rolled his eyes, but snapped them straight ahead when he saw Jarel raise a hand into the air.

  “Have you forgotten the lesson so quickly?” Jarel warned.

  “No, sire,” he said to the floor. “What would you have me do?” Jarel lowered his hand and waited for Roal to look up again.

  “For now, simply follow the boy.”

  “And his companions?” asked Roal with raised eyebrows.

  “A girl and a large man, most likely a simpleton.” He gave a small shrug. “They should give you little trouble, should it come to that.” He then planted both feet on the floor and leaned forward before adding, “But it shouldn’t.”

  “Understood, sire.” Then, after only a slight pause, “And once we reach the capital, what then?” Jarel simply stared for a moment, then covered his mouth with his hand and leaned back, as if in thought. The sound of his laughter broke free before Roal noticed the smile he was hiding. Once it was out though, Jarel threw his leg over the arm of the throne again, put his hands down, and let loose a few more cruel chuckles.

  “My dear Roal,” he said, wiping his eyes. “Sometimes I think I put more faith in you than is deserved.” He leaned forward again. “Why would I have you follow the boy if he were headed to the city?” His smile was fading quickly. “I would have simply told you to take my army, surround the capital, and attack at month’s end.” He pounded the arm of the throne with his hand, all trace of the smile now gone from his face. When he spoke again that uneasy calm had returned.

  “If he was headed to the city, I could have easily avoided this entire unpleasant, and frankly, disappointing, conversation. As it stands now, I fear there may be key elements within my strategy I must seriously consider replacing.”

  Roal opened his mouth, an explanation ready, but closed it quickly. Excuses would not save him now. “Thank you for giving me the opportunity to prove myself, sire. I will not fail you again.”

  “See that you don’t.” Jarel leaned back. “They head west from his village. Seeing as the farmer decided to deliver this message personally, they will already be several days ahead of you, so I suggest you hurry.” Jarel paused in thought for a moment, then added with a smile, “I will see if I can’t arrange something to slow them down a bit. We did only promise the safety of the heir, after all.”

  “Very good, sire,” Roal said with a bow, and then moved to leave.

  “One last thing you should know before you go, Roal.” Roal stopped and waited. “I’ve been practicing breaking the neck without killing. Still haven’t quite gotten it down yet, though.” Roal swallowed hard, absently rubbing his neck. “Fail me again and we will see if my skill has improved.”

  “I live to serve, sire,” Roal replied, and quickly retreated from the throne room.

  Chapter Seven

  The discussion on whether or not to leave wound up being no discussion at all. Dartan had already committed himself to follow the wizard, wherever he may lead. If he was going to learn anything of being a wizard, or his royal lineage, it would be with Alain. It also seemed to be what Mother wanted him to do. Aliet and Marcus though, had very different, but simple reasons for leaving.


  Neither argued they could stay. A simple look around the dying land was all the rebuttal needed against that point. They had other options, farms in neighboring villages, a distant aunt living in the city, but Aliet wouldn’t even consider them. She had followed Dartan nearly everywhere since the day they met, and she could think of no good reason to stop now.

  For Marcus, the decision was not so easily made. He stared at the two of them all evening, pacing back and forth across the small house, packing and grumbling. In the end, it came down to a simple promise he had made his parents – to take care of his little sister. It wasn’t something he was willing to break. In the end, it seemed as if there was no other real choice for any of them.

  The morning sun saw them packed, mostly rested, and eager to start. All they were missing now was their guide.

  Josie stomped at the ground, restless and ready. Aliet sat quietly atop Josie, reins loose in her hands, allowing the animal to wander. None of Aliet and Marcus’s livestock had survived, leaving Dartan and Marcus on foot. Dartan sat on the steps of the front porch, while Marcus stood behind him. The only noise between them all was that of Josie clomping about, eating grass from wherever she could find a decent bite in the dry, dusty ground. Eventually, she made her way to the porch, and began pushing Dartan’s pack around, making sure there was nothing underneath she might want.

  “Watch it, Josie,” Dartan said, pulling the bag onto the step next to him. Josie ignored him.

  “Do you think you’re keeping her alive?” Aliet asked, absently rubbing Josie’s neck. She looked up at Dartan and added, “With magic, I mean. Do you think you’re the reason Josie has survived?”

  “That nag? I doubt it. She’s just too stubborn to die.” Josie responded with a grumble and a huff that stirred Dartan’s hair. He thought he heard a chuckle from behind him, but couldn’t be sure as he had always assumed Marcus incapable of laughter. He looked back, but there was no trace of even a smile on Marcus’s face. He turned back to Aliet. “Don’t make me think about it, though. Just in case. I mean, we need someone to carry our bags.” Aliet smirked and steered Josie back towards the other side of the yard.

  By the time the sun cleared the roof, headed towards mid-morning, Marcus was more than a little restless. What started as a simple shifting of his weight from one foot to the other escalated to full on pacing across the entire length of the wooden porch. Mixed in with the noise of creaking planks, Dartan could just make out Marcus’s mumbling. The words weren’t clear, but the frustration was. When both sounds stopped directly behind Dartan, he froze, not daring to even breathe. Two more steps brought Marcus’s worn black boots into his peripheral. His chest started to burn as the silent seconds ticked by. Finally Marcus grunted, and the boots moved swiftly past Dartan.

  “We’re leaving,” Marcus announced, walked down the steps, and headed across the yard without another word. Dartan sat still for a moment, catching his breath, unsure he had heard correctly. Had he missed the wizard’s arrival? No, a quick glance around showed there was still no sign of him. So, what was Marcus doing?

  “Wait!” he called out, grabbing his bag and scrambling off the steps. “Leaving? Where are we going?”

  “Amstead, of course,” Aliet answered as she guided Josie around behind Marcus, who had not even paused when Dartan spoke.

  “But, the wizard,” Dartan argued. “Who will guide us?”

  “Marcus knows the way,” Aliet assured him. She spoke over her shoulder, not turning Josie to face him, or even slowing. “I’m sure the wizard will find us, when he has a use for us.”

  How could Marcus possibly know the way to Amstead? Dartan stood at the top of the road and wondered. Then something caught his eye, a patch on Marcus’s pack. It was faded, but still recognizable – the crest of the Capital Guard. He remembered now, Marcus had once been a member of the elite Royal Guard. Head of his watch and destined for Captain, to hear Aliet speak of it, though she rarely did anymore. It had been before their parents got sick, and he had traded that life for the one he had now.

  Dartan stood in the yard, uncertain. The house behind him was empty and dark, while his friends moved further away, leaving him alone. There was nothing left here for him, and if he waited long enough it might not be the wizard who showed up looking for him. Aliet was right, Marcus knew the way, and the wizard could find them whenever he got around to thinking about them.

  Dartan had a short jog to catch up, and he fell into place beside Aliet and Josie. “How long will it take us?” he asked after catching his breath.

  “It would take me two days,” Marcus answered. “Us?” He turned slightly, looked at Dartan, and added, “Most likely more.” Dartan looked up at Aliet. She gave him a smirk and a gentle shake of her head. She was right, best not to poke the bear.

  Dartan spent the next couple of hours at the back of a more or less single file line, occasionally peering behind them for any sign of the wizard. A few close calls later he decided it better to concentrate instead on avoiding anything Josie dropped in his path.

  The first fork in the road came upon them unexpectedly as they rounded a curve in the woods. Dartan slowed, looking for some sort of sign or direction, but Marcus moved steadily on, picking a path with barely a glance. It was the same each time an alternate path presented itself, and after each one Dartan thought of the wizard less and less.

  It was well past midday before he finally appeared. Dartan first saw him as a solitary figure in the road ahead. The robes, hat, and beard appeared as they drew closer. The last thing to come into focus was the smile so broad it crept up into his squinted eyes. He raised his hand, as though greeting old friends, but he wouldn’t find any in this group.

  Marcus gave him little more than a glance and grunt as he passed. Alain’s smile faltered a bit. Aliet glared as she passed and Josie swished her tail right through him. There was only confusion on his face when Dartan reached him. He was the only one that stopped.

  “You do realize this isn’t morning, don’t you?” Dartan asked.

  “Of course I do. You realize I’m also responsible for ruling this country, don’t you?” His furrowed brow showed irritation, but no malice. Dartan simply shook his head and continued walking. Alain stroked his beard a moment, then produced a staff from thin air and fell into step beside Dartan.

  “I honestly don’t see the problem,” Alain said. Dartan looked sideways at him, but remained silent. “I mean, just look at you – well on your way to Amstead with a more than competent former member of the Royal Guard leading you.” Marcus shot a glance over his shoulder at the wizard, who returned it with a smile. “You hardly need me at all,” he concluded.

  “Sure,” Dartan said, “except we have no idea what to do once we get to Amstead, where we’re going afterwards, or what insane task you want us to perform once we get there.” He stopped and faced Alain before adding in a lower tone, “The only guidance you have impressed upon me thus far is not to trust a wizard.”

  “Then I have done you a great disservice. By no means should you limit your distrust to just my kind, boy.” He poked a finger at Dartan, “Trust no one.” He paused, thinking, then added, “Except for those you must.” Aliet groaned, but Alain merely smiled and continued to walk on, leaving Dartan standing in the road.

  “As for your other concerns,” Alain continued on as though Dartan were still beside him, prompting him to catch back up. “I will answer all your questions, in due time. For now though, you should know I am preparing for your arrival in Amstead. You will have lodging at the Scales Tavern, where you will meet a man who possesses something you need, if you are to be successful.”

  Aliet leaned back in the saddle and loudly whispered, “Don’t bother with asking about the ‘something’, but see if you can at least squeeze a name out of him.”

  Dartan cleared his throat to mask the laugh. “A man, you say?” he ventured casually. “And would this man happen to have a name?” The look the wizard gave him was one worthy of his own m
other, and he felt his cheeks sting with the red of shame. Even Aliet, who could see nothing of what passed between them, squirmed uncomfortably in the saddle. Dartan looked down at his feet and had another thought, it probably wasn’t the best idea to poke fun at a wizard anyway.

  “Logan.” Alain spoke his answer straight out into the air, to all of them and none, simultaneously. They walked in silence for a few moments before he spoke again. “I’ll return when you reach the tavern.” He then turned to Dartan. “Do be careful, Dartan,” he said softly, then, without a sound, disappeared.

  Dartan released the breath he wasn’t aware he had even been holding, and Aliet turned to look back at him. She swung her head both ways, scanning everything behind her.

  “Is he gone?” she asked.

  “I guess,” Dartan shrugged, “but how can we be sure?” Aliet slid from Josie’s back and slowed to let Dartan catch up.

  “I suppose we could talk about him, and if we’re not struck dead then it means he’s not around?” she offered.

  Dartan nodded. “That makes sense.” He took a large step away from her and said, “You go first.” Aliet laughed and Dartan felt a smile on his own face. It seemed to lift more than just his cheeks, and he laughed as well when Aliet moved close and punched him on the shoulder. It felt good. He had missed this Aliet the past few days.

  “Seriously though,” she said between laughs, “do you really think he’s just going to leave us alone until we get there?”

  Dartan shrugged. “Apparently he has a country to run.”

  “But what about you? Apprentice.”

  Dartan rolled his eyes. “Obviously I didn’t impress him enough to spend the time.” He looked down at his boots, watching the road pass by for a few moments. “You know, the further we get from the farm, the less I feel like I worked any magic on it at all.”

  “Well, something certainly was,” Aliet said, then moved conspiratorially closer to him, speaking in a whisper. “Honestly, even though I acted shocked, I wasn’t really surprised to find out you had ‘the gift’.”