Spell Fade

by J. Daniel Layfield

  Dartan and Aliet both met his wide smile with open mouths. Controlling a bounce, changing direction mid-flight, and crushing it into dust? Dartan had expected difficult, but these were things he had not even considered trying. Still, it certainly seemed to have grabbed Aliet’s attention. He watched her as she looked from him to the stone, the tree, and then back again at him. She was hooked.

  “Whenever you’re ready then,” Logan prompted as they drew close to the chosen stone. Dartan smiled nervously at Aliet, then closed his eyes and reached out to find the stone. Ready to fly?

  The squirrel actually fell from the tree limb watching the rock swing around him, but its reaction was nothing compared to Marcus and Farnir. The exploding rock echoed around them, and Farnir threw himself to the ground while Marcus charged forward.

  “My fault! Sorry!” Logan called out. “Shouldn’t have thrown that rock so hard.” He turned to Dartan. “Aim – check. But you’re going to have to throw something a lot bigger than that to hurt a dragon. Next time we’ll see if size matters.” He winked at Aliet before adding, “And no matter what anyone says, it really does.” He turned, headed towards Farnir. “Here, let me help you up,” he offered.

  Dartan knew he would need something bigger than a pebble. How much effort would it require to toss a boulder into the sky? He thought back to that last throw. There was no doubt he felt the sensations of the rock, but there was no weight, no force, no strain on himself. Would size really matter?

  Aliet watched silently until Logan was out of earshot. “So, you two are best friends now?” Dartan looked at the ground as he shrugged his reply. She watched Logan help Farnir up with a boyish grin on his face, then turned back to Dartan. “He says you’re dangerous, that you can make anything you desire, just happen.”

  Dartan felt his cheeks flush, but was it from anger or embarrassment? “And I suppose he told you that during one of your intimate fireside chats?” He could hear it in his own voice – not anger or embarrassment, but something completely different.

  “Well, you hardly left me any choice,” she shot back. “You go stomping off into the woods, leaving me by myself. Then you spend all day trailing behind us, alone. Who else am I supposed to talk to?”

  He wanted to tell her he only kept his distance for their protection, but that made it sound like he really was dangerous. He didn’t want her to fear him. “We’ve known each other nearly our entire lives,” he said. “What do you think? Am I dangerous?”

  He held his breath as she ran her eyes up and down his body. “Sure you are,” she said. Then she gave him a playful shove, and added, “If we were having a rock throwing contest.”

  In the laughter that followed, Dartan felt almost all of the tension between them dissolve, along with his own fears. Almost. Things would never be the same between them. How could they be? She understood nothing of his power, which was only slightly less than he had figured out. It would change him in some ways, and they both knew that to be true. Still, he didn’t feel like a particularly different person. All he could do now was wait and see if she saw anything different.

  In the silence that followed their laughter, she had been watching him from the corner of her eye. Even wrapped in his own thoughts, Dartan could see her watching him. He let it go for several minutes, but could finally stand it no longer.

  “What is it? Why do you keep looking at me?”

  She shook her head at first, but quickly gave in. “Just thinking about what Logan said.” Dartan rolled his eyes, his groan almost audible. She put her arm through his and pulled him a little closer – she wasn’t scared. “You can make anything you desire happen. Is that true?” She stopped walking and faced him, searching his face as he tried to answer.

  “Well, everything has some desire,” he began. “It’s much easier to help fulfill those desires than it is to counter them with my own.”

  She gave him a half-smile. “You’re even beginning to sound like a wizard.” He moved to protest, but she put a finger to his lips to stop him. “Let me be more direct, so you know exactly what I want you to answer. Could you make me do something I didn’t want to do?”

  “You’re still not being direct,” Dartan said. “What you really want to know is can I get inside your head and make you into my puppet. Right?” She lowered her head and nodded slowly. “From the little I’ve experienced so far, I’d say the ability certainly exists.” He put a hand under her chin, lifting her head to look into her eyes. “But I don’t feel like it’s something I could ever do to you … or anyone.”

  The small smile returned to her lips as she nodded her understanding. There were some things about himself that even magic would never change. His feelings for Aliet were just one of those. He dropped his hand from her chin, and gave her his own smile. “But that’s not what you asked.”

  Her smile turned up in the corners mischievously, and her eyebrows arched in questioning. Dartan explained, “You asked if I could make you do something you didn’t want to do. I’d argue I’ve been doing that for years without magic, but I know that’s not really what you meant either.” She cocked her head to the side, and her eyes said ‘I can’t wait to hear this’.

  “As I said,” he explained, “magic is about figuring out how to make desires work in your favor.” He paused, letting his eyes slide over Aliet. “If, for instance, I wanted you to drop your sword, I wouldn’t even attempt to force you to give it up.” His mind reached out, searching for the ties securing the scabbard to her, then lent a little power to loosen the energy stored in the bonds. “No, I simply encourage the sword to release itself,” he said with a smile as her sword and belt fell to the ground with a small thump.

  Aliet placed hands on her hips. “I certainly hope my pants aren’t feeling any similar desires.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” Dartan said, then unable to think of anything else.

  “Is that all you’ve got?” she taunted.

  “Just getting started,” he assured her. “How about I make you move a little closer to me?” he suggested.

  “Definitely not something I desire.”

  “Fortunately, I’m not relying on convincing you. Not when it’s so easy to just give you a little push.” Aliet’s hair lifted and danced about her face, reaching out towards Dartan, guided by a sudden breeze from behind her. She absently pushed it back, meaning to ask him what he meant. What came out was little more than a surprised yelp as the gentle breeze turned suddenly into a concentrated column of air, centered at the small of her back. She staggered forward, almost caught her balance, then tripped on a root and flew, arms wide, straight into Dartan. He raised his own arms, catching her and staggering back only a step. She hung in his arms, her face buried in his chest, and laughed.

  “I really didn’t think you meant this close,” she said in a muffled voice.

  “I may have overdone it a bit,” he admitted.

  She picked herself up, but remained close. His arms encircled her back, holding her.

  “The root was a nice touch.”

  He leaned his head to the side and spied the small, offending root. “I didn’t do that.” Did he? Aliet looked at him with squinting, uncertain eyes.

  Aliet put her arms across his shoulders and brought his forehead down to meet her own. “Root, or no root, that was kind of impressive.”

  The smooth warmth of her skin against his was making it hard for him to think. His words were swallowed by her deep eyes, and her smiling lips urged him to draw closer. The best he was able to reply with was, “Really? Just ‘kind of’ impressive?”

  “What else have you got?” she pressed. “Feeling any other desires you want to indulge?”

  “Um,” Logan interrupted from behind Aliet. “I’m feeling the overwhelming desire to vomit. Anything you can do about that?”

  Dartan frowned as he pulled away from Aliet. He opened his mouth to respond, but Logan put up a hand to stop him. Logan put his other hand over his mouth, and swallowed hard.

&
nbsp; “Nevermind,” he said. “Too late. Maybe next time.”

  Aliet rolled her eyes as she moved away from Dartan. “Shouldn’t you and your new slayer friend be swapping stories about … ,” she scratched her head a moment. “What is it that you guys actually do?”

  “Very funny, especially coming from the one person in this group with no special talent at all,” Logan shot back.

  “Well,” Dartan interrupted, “I wouldn’t exactly say that.”

  Aliet’s eyes widened and cheeks flushed as she turned back to face Dartan. “Now that’s an impressive power,” Logan said with a laugh. Dartan could only reply with a small shrug, feigning innocence.

  Aliet let out a small huff and turned back to Logan. “I’m sure you had a reason for coming back here,” she said. “What was it?”

  Logan was still smiling. “Kinsley is just through those trees. We’ve arrived.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Farnir’s family home was simple, but comfortable. At least, it was for about an hour. After that, Logan began to grow restless.

  “What could possibly be taking so long?” he asked on one of his many trips through the kitchen. The rest of them sat at the table in front of the fire. It was Farnir who answered, as it had really been directed at him.

  “I told you, the council doesn’t make any decision lightly. It may take a while.”

  “And we’re stuck in here until they do?” Logan demanded to know, to which Farnir merely nodded.

  Logan expelled a loud, frustrated exhale. “Honestly, what could they possibly need to decide that would take this long?”

  “Whether or not to let you live?” Farnir offered.

  Logan stopped in mid-step. Marcus straightened in his seat and placed a hand firmly on his sword.

  Aliet stood and spoke directly to Farnir. “They do realize he’s the heir to the Pavlorian throne, don’t they?”

  Only Dartan looked calm, and even had a small smile when Farnir replied. “I didn’t say it was likely they were discussing it, just that it was one possibility.”

  Logan charged towards Farnir, arms raised. “Why you little,”

  “Logan!” Dartan stopped him, but just barely. Logan still had his arms out as he turned towards Dartan. “Remember,” Dartan said, “he’s just a kid who doesn’t know anything about what goes on at those meetings.” Logan opened his mouth, then snapped it shut, throwing his hands down in disgust. He stomped to the table and dropped down into a chair.

  “My father would have beat me for acting like that,” Logan muttered. “And I would have deserved it,” he added as he glared at Farnir. Dartan moved next to the smiling Farnir and leaned in close to his ear.

  “You think it’s funny to get him so riled up?” Dartan whispered to Farnir.

  “Come on,” he replied with a grin. “He’s a pompous ass and you all know it.”

  “Don’t look so amused with yourself,” Dartan said. “You’re well on your way to being just like him.” The smile dropped from Farnir’s face, and Dartan picked it up as he headed back to the table.

  “What did you say to him?” Logan asked as Dartan sat down next to him.

  “I just told him that as he thinks about what kind of man he wants to be, he should look to you as an example.” He managed to say it with a straight face, but he heard Aliet snort, nearly choking on the ale she was drinking.

  “You’re right!” Logan replied, oblivious to Aliet’s coughing fit. He sat up a bit straighter in his chair. “A lot of the slayers in this town could learn a thing or two from watching me,” he said as he nodded his head.

  “Indeed,” Dartan agreed, unable to hide his smile now, but not worried as Logan was too absorbed to notice. Laughter, however, would be harder to ignore, and Dartan was finding his hard to contain with Aliet behind him.

  “Help … can’t … breathe,” she quietly gasped in between her cough covered laughter.

  “Is she alright?” Logan asked casually as he stood and crossed to the window on the far side of the room.

  “She’s fine,” Dartan had barely enough time to answer before Logan continued.

  “There’s definitely a lot of power here,” he said, peering into the street. “I can feel it, just below the surface, but it’s like they’re afraid to use it.” His frustration was evident, and being essentially trapped in this house was not making things any better. He raked his fingers through his hair and grunted. “Honestly, how long can it take the council to make a decision?”

  “Well,” a voice said from the doorway, “it took them just over a year to decide whether or not to allow our kind to join the council.” It belonged to a man who was obviously Farnir’s father. Their resemblance was unmistakable, even down to the mischievous grin.

  Logan turned and his face instantly softened. Dartan had no idea what a slayer’s power felt like, but he could see there was a hierarchy here. Without speaking another word, Farnir’s father had Logan’s respect. What was it he had said about not having a choice about obeying?

  “I’m sorry, sir,” Logan said, “but we don’t have that kind of time.”

  “Not to worry,” he replied. “The council has come to a decision.”

  “Really?!” As much as he complained, Logan was genuinely surprised. “Just like that? Without hearing anything from us? What about our side?”

  “Logan,” Dartan interrupted. “Let him tell us what they’ve decided before you argue with him.” Logan stared at him for a moment, but he didn’t offer any more attacks.

  The smile remained fixed on the man’s face, and he turned it now to Dartan. “You must be the heir,” he said, moving towards him with an extended hand.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Logan demanded from the corner to which he had reprimanded himself.

  “Simply that you are obviously the slayer, and the other two are siblings, leaving just this young man to be the heir.”

  “And he’s the one acting the most civilized,” Aliet added. Logan merely turned and found something interesting out the window.

  “My name is Barson.” He introduced himself with a firm handshake, followed by a slight bow. “And you are the future king of Pavlora.”

  “So I’ve been told,” Dartan answered meekly. He still wasn’t feeling anything like a leader, but it appeared to be happening whether he was ready or not.

  Barson’s smile widened a bit. “Ah, humility. A fine, but rare trait in a ruler.” Logan snickered from his corner, but Barson ignored him. He leaned in close to Dartan as he spoke. “It just needs to be tempered with a bit of confidence, and you will find it serves you well.” He added a wink, and Dartan found himself grinning back, as if they were sharing in some secret.

  “Thank you,” Dartan said quietly. “I’ll try to remember that.”

  Barson nodded and stared at Dartan for a moment. “Yes,” he said finally. “You are very much as the wizard described you. It both surprises and pleases me.” He gave Dartan a small squeeze on the shoulder.

  What exactly had Alain been telling them about him, Dartan wondered. Furthermore, what did the wizard think he knew about Dartan anyway? How much time had they spent together in total? A day? And now he feels he can just tell complete strangers about him? A heat was rising up his neck, but before it reached his lips, Logan interrupted.

  “I believe there is some sort of decision you were going to tell us about. That you made all on your own, with no input from any of us.”

  “Yes, of course.” Barson rubbed his hands together and turned to the rest of the room. “Three days,” he announced. “We will give you refuge for three days, hiding you from the Northern Kingdom mercenaries following you, and then provide you with supplies for your journey into the mountains.”

  “Three whole days, eh?” Logan said. “How generous of you to put up with us for so long.”

  Barson’s smile was immovable. “I’m fairly certain you’ll be quite anxious to leave here well before the third day.”

  “I don’t kn
ow,” Logan answered. “I think Aliet may have had enough of sleeping on the ground.” Aliet shot him a glare, but remained silent.

  “I didn’t say anything about the rest of your group,” Barson clarified. “I said you.” Logan’s eyes widened, and Barson continued before his mouth followed. “Come along, heir,” he said, headed out of the room, towards the front door. “The council wishes to speak with you.”

  “What about the rest of us?” Logan finally managed to get out.

  “I’m afraid you’ll have to stay confined to my home for now,” Barson called back. “At least until we can be sure of the whereabouts of the Northern Kingdom scouts.”

  Dartan followed Barson out of the room and could only offer Logan a shrug. Logan answered back with a dismissive wave. From the hallway Dartan heard Logan sigh heavily and then ask, “Farnir, didn’t you say something about having a sister?”

  Dartan pivoted on his heel, but Barson caught him by the elbow, spinning him back around. “My daughter will chew him up and spit out what’s left,” he said with a wink. Dartan took one look back, then shrugged. If Barson wasn’t worried, then why should he? “This way, my future king,” Barson said with a small tug on Dartan’s arm. “The council is anxious to meet you.” Dartan allowed himself to be led to the door and out into the narrow street beyond.

  The council met in the homes of its members, and this one looked very similar to Barson’s. The biggest difference between the room he had just left and this one was the occupants.

  These are the type of men who should be ruling a country, thought Dartan as he looked at the dozen faces staring back at him. Barson appeared to be the youngest member, and at least half, he would wager, were slayers. There was something about them, he was beginning to realize, that gave it away. Beyond that, there was experience and a quiet confidence in all of their eyes. They had all earned respect from the residents of this town, and, in turn, were trusted with guiding it.