Spell Fade

by J. Daniel Layfield

  Almost reading his mind, Barson leaned in close and said, “Wisdom can be a strong ally to a king, but strength is needed as well. Unfortunately, with age, strength wanes.”

  “And wisdom does not always prosper,” a voice from the group added, and was met with agreeing grunts and laughter.

  “A truly wise leader then should take council from those more experienced than himself,” Dartan reasoned. There was another round of grunts and Barson gave him a slight nod and a wink.

  “It did not take us this long to decide to give you refuge here,” Barson said. “What we have decided, although not unanimously-”

  “No.” The interruption came from the eldest of the group. He stared hard at Dartan for a moment, then spoke again. “It is now unanimous.”

  Barson nodded to the elder, and then continued. “We have unanimously decided to accept and embrace you as our new king.” He placed his right fist over his heart and fell to his knees before Dartan. The rest of the council followed his lead, pledging their loyalty.

  Dartan felt his cheeks redden. “I am truly honored,” he said quietly. “But how can someone so far from royal be treated with such respect?”

  “Far from royal?” The smile on Barson’s face faltered for only a moment, but was solid as ever when he spoke again. “Who do you think your parents are, my young king?”

  Dartan looked down at his feet, thankful he was already flushed. His answer came out in a whisper. “I have no idea. My mother died when I was a baby, and my father sent me away to be raised by a servant.”

  “I can’t speak to how you were raised,” Barson said, “but you can’t get any closer to royal than Queen Elainya.”

  “The Virgin Queen?! My mother? How?”

  “If anyone else would have even suggested such a thing, I would call it treason,” Barson answered. “This, however, comes straight from Alain.”

  Something else the Great Wizard had neglected to share with him. But was it true? How could it be?

  “What about my father?” Dartan asked. “Did he say anything about him?”

  Barson lowered his eyes. “He did not reveal your father’s name to us, but he spoke as though he knew him well.” Add another item to the growing list of things he demand the wizard tell him. Dartan looked out over the kneeling men and felt a pang of shame.

  “Please, rise, and give me counsel.”

  “As you wish,” Barson said, rising to his feet.

  “Will the rest of Pavlora be so willing to accept me?” Dartan wondered aloud.

  “To be sure, there will be those who will not wish to accept the truth of your lineage,” Barson said. “However, with the proper papers, and the backing of Alain, there will be a larger number unwilling to oppose you.”

  “And if something were to happen to Alain?” Dartan was thinking about what the Northern Kingdom might have planned. There was also the matter of Alain’s appearance. Each time Dartan saw him, the wizard seemed to grow older.

  Barson nodded, as though reading Dartan’s thoughts again. “You would need his spell stone.”

  “His what?”

  Barson’s forehead wrinkled and his eyes squinted, although the smile remained frozen in place. “You are his apprentice, are you not?”

  Dartan looked out at the small crowd of staring faces and swallowed hard. “Yes. Of course I am.”

  “And you have not yet learned of spell stones?”

  “Well,” Dartan said as he admired his feet. “Alain has been a bit preoccupied with other matters during our brief periods of instruction. I’m sure it has just slipped his mind.”

  Barson answered with a grunt, which Dartan found hard to interpret, but was echoed by the others. Another item to add to the list, but should it go above or below asking about his father? Barson interrupted the thought. “If something happens to him, you will need his spell stone. I would make a point to ask about it.” So, above asking about his father. “I dare say it will be the most important thing for all of us should anything happen to the Great Wizard.” Right, top of the list then.

  Now, what does that mean? Before Dartan could ask for an explanation, there was a quick knock at the door. One of the men opened it slightly and a pair of wide eyes peered in through the crack.

  “They are nearly here,” an out of breath voice announced.

  “How many?” Barson asked.

  “Four.”

  “A scouting party then.”

  “That was our thought as well.”

  “Very good. Keep them in sight and let us know if any more show up.” The head in the doorway bowed, then disappeared. Barson turned to Dartan. “The Northern mercenaries are nearly upon us. We must get you back to my home where we can hide you and the others. Come, quickly.” Barson headed for the door, and before Dartan could respond he found himself being carried along between two men.

  Gliding through the narrow streets, following Barson’s flowing cloak, was calming, almost hypnotic. Dartan began thinking on his next encounter with Alain. What exactly would he ask, and what answers would he accept?

  Chapter Eighteen

  The boy was safe … for now. Alain opened his eyes and smiled. Despite the weakness he felt, and the cold of the room, he smiled. Why was the room so cold?

  He had been following Dartan’s progress as a mere shadow, using as little magic as possible, unable to interact. He had slipped in and out of physical contact with his own body during the past few days, but this was the first time he had felt the chill.

  No matter. Conserving magic or not, he should easily be able to raise a fire from the embers in the fireplace. He reached out and found only cold ash. Most decidedly harder to conjure into a warm blaze. What worried him more though, was how long had his chambers gone unattended? Where was Norrick?

  He picked up the bell next to his bed, rang it, then laid back and waited. His thoughts drifted from Norrick back to the boy, to Dartan. The Kinsley elders were right, there was much he still needed to know. It was almost absurd, a bad joke even. How could someone who had lived for so long, now be in such danger of running out of time? And yet, it was happening. Spell stones?! How could he have forgotten that lesson? Which reminded him again of Norrick.

  He rang the bell again, louder and longer this time. Perhaps it was finally time to zap a couple of people. He looked down at his thin fingers, sprouting from a bony hand attached to an only slightly larger arm, and almost laughed at the thought of threatening anyone with it. He didn’t even dare use the small amount of magic it would take to summon Norrick, instead relying on the bell next to his bed.

  He eyed the bell again, ready to toss it across the room. He actually had it in his hand, wondering if he could even reach the door with it, when the door opened a crack. The face that appeared was one he recognized, but not one he expected.

  “Did you need something, sir?” Her voice was barely above a whisper, and she refused to put more that her head into the room. It was a position he was used to seeing.

  “Norrick,” he replied flatly.

  Somehow her face managed to find another shade of pale, and her eyes betrayed the surprise she felt. “No one has seen him, sir,” she stammered. “Not for days.” She was afraid to meet the wizard’s eyes. “We thought he was acting under your orders. He told us you wished not to be disturbed, for any reason.” It was a wonder he hadn’t had to open the door and yell out for someone. How long would that have taken him? He brushed the thought from his head to focus on more important matters. Norrick – gone for days. He was going to have to use a little magic after all.

  He didn’t waste any energy on Norrick, instead focusing on the box. With its protective net of spells, it should shine like a beacon. Indeed, he had barely even put a thought into finding it when it jumped into his mind, pulling him to its location.

  Two days journey – north, and Norrick was most definitely with it. This was part of the plan, but everything was happening so quickly. Would everyone be where he needed them, when he needed the
m? The window was closing much faster than he thought.

  A small cough jerked his consciousness back to his body. The maid. He definitely didn’t have time for this. His eyes opened, and he was glad to see the irritation he felt reflected back at him as fear in her face.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” she whispered, her eyes focused on the floor. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”

  “Norrick is indeed away at my bidding,” Alain said, “but there are some documents he was supervising for me that I still need completed. Check with the royal scribes.” She bowed slightly, ready to leave, when Alain stopped her. “I also did ask him to make sure I was not disturbed.” The fear surfaced again, but Alain took no pleasure in it. “The room, however,” Alain clarified, “does need to be attended. Keep the fire fed and the room in order, but do not disturb me.”

  She nodded her head, whispered a quick, “Yes, sir,” and disappeared behind the door before Alain could speak again. In the gloom and silence that followed, he could feel the box tugging him back again.

  “I’ll check on you again later,” he said to the empty room. He eased deeper into the thick blankets, feeling sleep tug even harder on his weary frame. “I need to make sure you stay on track, but first I have to make sure the boy is ready when your paths cross.”

  Would he be ready? Could there be enough time? Three weeks ago there was no doubt in his mind, but now it seemed everything had moved at the wrong speed. The boy was still so young, and he was feeling much too old.

  Sleep again called to him, whispering agreement into his ear. Yes, he was old, and he deserved some rest. Why not sleep for a while? Surely there’s nothing you would miss.

  It was a slippery slope, but ignoring the call could be even worse. He pulled the blankets up to his chin, beard out, and closed his eyes. Perhaps there was a way to get some rest and visit the boy, he thought as he lay and wait for sleep to claim him. The thought gave him some comfort, but sleep, feeling cheated, did not come quickly, or easily.

  Chapter Nineteen

  His progress was steady, but slow. He carried something with him, but Jarel was unable to see anything about it. That made him smile. It was the first one since learning his most deeply entrenched and trusted informant had disappeared. It had taken an exhaustive search, but now that he had been found, it looked like the effort would be well worth it. The smile might have even broadened, but a tug at his neck returned the scowl to his face.

  Jarel pulled the thin silver chain up and over his head, revealing the six-inch tooth attached to the end. He placed it on the table in front of him and backed away.

  The tooth stood on its end, and began to draw smoke around it from the fire in the middle of the room. The thin wisps slowly massed and swirled, forming a deep, black outline of a dragon head, its tooth now rooted in place.

  “What news have you,” the head asked, smoke jaws moving with the voice.

  Jarel’s frown deepened. “News?” he repeated. “What makes you think I have any news for you?”

  “I felt it.”

  Jarel actually laughed. The head turned slightly to regard him, but any change in expression was lost in the swirling smoke. “You felt it?” he mocked. When there was no response, he continued. “You felt there was something you may need to know about that might be happening, and you decided to interrupt?” Silence. “I have nothing for you, dragon,” he said, staring into the dark coal eyes of the smoke head. “Now, be gone with you,” he added with a dismissive wave of his hand through the head. He regretted the move almost instantly.

  It burned as though his hand had passed through a jet of steam. The once black eyes burst into bright orange life, and dark smoke flowed from the nostrils, circling around to the back of the head. Jarel hid his instantly red, and most likely blistered, hand behind his back. It was much easier to hide than the look of pain on his face, but he managed to do both.

  The head continued to silently observe him. Jarel found himself tracing the racing and swirling patterns of the smoke. It was hypnotic, and, no doubt, meant for just that purpose. The throb of his hand reminded him of the danger contained within.

  “Are we done?” Jarel asked, eyeing the single white, solid tooth.

  “Yes, for now. But do not forget our agreement. You have a bargain to uphold.”

  “You don’t have to worry about me,” Jarel countered. “I have always been very open about my disdain for the royal family, and my desire to overthrow them. Whereas your species has quite the history of secrecy.” He leaned closer. “It is I who implore you to remember your agreement.

  Jarel thought he heard a small laugh, but it could have simply been the crackle of fire. “Don’t worry,” the dragon cooed, “we know you have no chance against the wizard without our help.” It was meant more as a reminder than reassurance, but from reports he had heard about the ‘Great Wizard’, Jarel was no longer sure he did need help. Still, no need to point that out just yet. Not when he had his own reminder to issue.

  “And I know without my help, you will be stuck where you are. Forever.” There was definitely no laughter this time.

  “The new moon approaches, wizard. Best you be ready.”

  “Best you leave me be with the time I have left to prepare.” There was an almost imperceptible nod, and the smoke dissolved. The tooth dropped back onto its side, and was quickly scooped back up by Jarel. He put the chain back around his neck and tucked the tooth safely away under his shirt.

  The dragon was right, time was running short. The new moon raced towards him, and with it, his best chance to breach the barrier and release his allies. It also marked the deadline he had set for Alain and the heir. A deadline which Jarel had initially considered a spectacular success, but which Alain now seemed not to give a damn about.

  There was no doubt it had forced Alain’s hand, drawing out the heir, but nothing went as he had thought after. Jarel had expected the boy to be ushered straight to the capital, but apparently Alain had other plans. Could he have been sending the boy after the very thing for which Jarel had been searching? He had been left with little other choice than to send Roal to follow the boy. Now, with the deadline looming, and the heir holed up somewhere in Kinsley, Jarel was not so sure. Why so close to the portal? The order to raze the entire village in search of the boy had been on his lips when he received news of his wayward spy.

  He closed his eyes, searching again for the lone figure. He was easy to find this time, and he was frustratingly close to where he had been at Jarel’s last check on his progress. Frustrated or not, though, he still felt the smile return. Whatever it was he carried with him was so protected by magic, Jarel couldn’t even see its dimensions. The only thing he could detect was the burden of carrying it. This had to be it. What else would Alain go to so much trouble to conceal, and his spy risk exposing himself? Too many questions to share any guesses with the dragon, but he would know for sure soon enough.

  Chapter Twenty

  How long had he been staring at her? He honestly had no idea. There had been no conscious decision, simply the sudden realization that he was. Unfortunately for Dartan, it hit him at the exact same moment Aliet noticed it too.

  Their eyes locked long enough for Dartan’s pulse to quicken and cheeks to flush. Afraid of what his face might be giving away, he quickly found something else to look at on the table in front of him. He picked absently at a crusted stain on the table, calming and cursing himself at the same time. Realizing he had no idea what substance he was currently scraping and lodging under his nails, he abruptly stopped and absently wiped his fingers on his cloak. Satisfied enough time had passed, he chanced a quick glance at Aliet.

  She was still staring directly at him. Heat again filled his cheeks, he lowered his head and focused his eyes on his hands in his lap. What was he doing? This was Aliet, his life-long friend. Then a thought occurred – she was most likely just having a bit of fun with him. He had made her feel uncomfortable by staring, and now she was returning the favor. Well,
he certainly deserved it. Best just look back at her and let her finish making her point.

  She was indeed still staring at him, and her eyes locked on to his as soon as he raised them. A guilty smile was half-formed on his lips, and remained that way. There was something more than mere childish retaliation in her eyes. The only thing he was sure of was he could no longer look away. His embarrassment was no match for her allure.

  Her dark eyes sparkled, much like the stars in the night sky they would often lie together and watch. How was it he had never noticed before? There was also a gentle playfulness there, though not like she was making fun of him, but more of a promise of things to come. To be sure, he had seen a range of emotions in those eyes – joy, sadness, and even teasing – but this was something else completely new. Desire?

  The warmth in his cheeks spread, flowing down the rest of his body, giving him the not entirely unpleasant feeling of melting. It also loosened the lock she held on his eyes, giving them the freedom to roam over the rest of her. It was her lips which next ensnared his gaze. So full, red, and with the same glistening sparkle of her eyes.

  What he found most intoxicating though, was her smile. He had seen her smile often, himself usually the cause of it, but again, this one was new. It was a suspicious smile, meant to be exchanged between two people sharing a secret. He had no idea what hers might be, but he wanted badly to be a co-conspirator. He did his best to mimic it, but it felt more menacing than seductive, and the burning red embarrassment renewed in his cheeks.

  Her smile broadened, and her mouth opened slightly, as though to allow a laugh to escape, but instead it was a light sigh. She rose from her chair and walked towards him. His head remained level, his eyes now focused on her waist, following the hypnotic sway of her hips as she slowly closed the gap between them. With her buckle mere inches from his face, she stopped, put a hand under his chin, and tilted his face up to meet her own.