Ned replied with a hail of fireballs. The burning balls rushed toward the stranger, but the man raised Fred's staff and brought up a barrier. The fireballs crashed into the magical wall and the impact dented the walls of the buildings on either side of them. Fred ducked and put his arms over his head as debris from the damaged mud walls rained down on him. Ned didn't let up his barrage, but threw a larger attack at the stranger. The man blocked them as before, but the impact slid his feet back a yard so he stood beside Fred. Ned fired more groups, again and again. The stranger slid farther and farther down the alley.
Ned looked to Pat. "Retrieve Fred!" he ordered her.
Pat nodded and squished herself against the wall of the right-hand building to avoid Ned's fireballs. Fred lifted his head and saw her move slowly toward him. His body was sore and still surrounded by the brilliant light, but he crawled through the mud toward her. They reached each other and Pat set her hands on his glowing shoulders. She gasped when her hands felt the soft warmth that emanated off his body.
"Oh Fred," she whispered.
He shakily grinned at her. "Could we talk about this later?" he hoarsely whispered.
Pat nodded and lifted him to a seated position. She grasped his hands, and prepared to lean him against her and pull him toward Ned.
The stranger saw their reunion and trembled with rage. A dark shadow slipped from his pale hand that held Fred's staff and wrapped itself around the wood. The man pounded the ground and the area was shaken by an earthquake. The dry ground trembled and cracked open, and dark shadows leapt out from the holes. Spikes shot from the cracked earth beneath Ned and he jumped back in time to avoid being impaled. The spikes were angled so their points faced Pat and Fred. Ned destroyed several of the spikes with his magic, but they were replaced and even doubled by the magic sunk into the earth beneath them by the earthquake.
The stranger's cold eyes glared at the pair of friends, and he thickened the barrier in front of him so it stretched across the whole of the alley and above the rooftops. Then he pushed it forward with his hands and it charged toward them companions. It reached Fred and passed through him without effect, but when it hit Pat she felt the barrier strike her with the force of brick wall. They were broken apart and Pat was knocked backward by the wall of magic. The force dragged her feet on the ground and pushed her toward the spikes.
Fred leapt forward and just missed one of her hands. Ned threw his flaming arsenal through the regenerating spikes and at the barrier, and it broke into a thousand small, sparkling shards. Pat fell hard to the ground and whipped her head up to Fred. He grimaced and struggled toward her while she crawled back to him.
The stranger threw another wall, this one faster. Fred reached Pat and turned to see the wall barreling down on him. He pulled Pat toward him and pressed her against his chest, covering her with his body. The barrier swept over him, but stuck between the pair. It tried to pull Pat into the spikes, but Fred grasped her and dug his heels into the dirt. Slowly they were both pulled along the ground toward the sharp rocks, and with each foot of distance they picked up speed.
Pat tried to pull away from him, but he held onto her. "Let go!" she yelled at him.
"No!" he refused.
"Let go or we'll both die!"
"I'm not letting you go!" he shouted. Fred clenched his teeth and the brilliant light around him pulsed with energy. It pressed against the barrier between Pat and him, and cracks appeared in the magical wall. The spikes behind them came closer and closer. Two yards. Two feet. Fred shut his eyes and prepared for pain.
Through his eyelids Fred beheld a brilliant flash of light, and a warmth washed over them. The barrier between them exploded into powder and they were pelted with rock. Fred opened his eyes and saw they were surrounded by a thick cloud of dust. He couldn't see more than a foot around them.
Pat lifted her head and coughed. "What happened?" she asked him.
"I don't know, but I think we're-" From the dust cloud behind him emerged the robed figure.
Pat's eyes widened and she tried to pull Fred back, but the man caught the light that still surrounded Fred. He yanked hard on the light and Fred cried out in pain. The man pulled out a pair of golden shears and snipped off the part he held. Fred screamed and collapsed to the ground writhing in pain. The stranger pocketed his golden treasure in the wooden box and slipped back into the dusty mist.
"Fred? Pat?" Ned called out.
Pat scurried over over to Fred and pulled him into her lap. He was half conscious and his teeth were clenched. "Over here!" she shouted.
The dust was blown away by a strong gust of wind and Ned shuffled forward. His clothes were covered in dirt and his hat was askew. He saw Fred's tortured face and pulsing light, and hurried over to them. "What happened?"
"The man took a part of Fred's light," Pat replied.
Ned knelt beside the boy and hovered his hand over the light. He frowned and struggled to his feet. "I'm as weak as a babe, so you'll have to take charge of him and help him back to the inn."
"What about the other castor and Fred's staff?" Pat asked him.
Ned glanced across the distance of the alley and nodded at a pair of broken sticks. "Fred's staff is over there, and I don't believe our enemy will return. Not this night. I will grab it while you help Fred."
Pat slung one of Fred's arms over her own and with Fred's help she pulled him to his feet. The three of them shuffled through the dark alley and toward the inn.
CHAPTER 22
The three made their way back to the tavern, but were interrupted when a shadow swooped over them as they hurried through another alley. Pat pulled Fred into the shadows of a nearby building and Ned grasped his staff. The shadow dropped in front of them and showed herself to be Ruth. The three battle-weary companions sighed and relaxed.
"What happened? What was that light?" Ruth asked them.
"An altercation between castors, but we must get Fred to the inn," Ned told her.
Ruth saw his ashen face and she looked to Pat. "You are exhausted. I will take him the rest of the way," she promised.
Pat reluctantly handed over Fred and Ruth easily lifted him into her arms. The four friends hurried to the inn, but Ned stopped them before they reached the front door. "The rear entrance will be much quieter and easier to navigate," he pointed out.
Ned led the other three through the alley and to the weathered door at the rear of the building. They took the rickety old staircase upstairs and to their hall. They entered Ned and Fred's room, and Ruth gently lowered Fred onto the bed. The young man's face was pale and he trembled as though with fever.
Pat sat on the edge of the bed beside Fred and grasped Fred's hand. His skin was cold. She looked to Ned. "What's wrong with him?"
Ned frowned and lowered the head of his staff so the stone rested in his open palm. "His soul was pulled from his body and part of it cut from him. In such a state the soul senses it is vulnerable and burns brightly to protect itself from further harm." Ruth's eyes widened.
Pat shuddered. "My god," she murmured
"We have no need of a god. Merely a bit of skill and luck," Ned replied. The stone in Ned's hand brightened and illuminated the dark room. "Hold him still. This will hurt him," he instructed Pat.
Ruth took hold of Fred's legs. Pat pinned his arms to the bed and watched Ned step forward and hover the stone over the young man's pale face.
"What are you going to do to him?" Pat asked him.
"A jolt of soul magic. Think of it as glue to bind the soul to the body," he replied.
Pat frowned. "I've never heard of such a thing done before," she commented.
"That is likely. It's an ancient castor spell that very few know and even fewer can master, but we haven't time for an intellectual discussion. Hold him still," Ned ordered her.
Ned touched the tip of his staff against Fred's forehead. The light from the stone eased into the young man's body. Fred's eyes shot open and he let out a garbled scream. He thrashed and kicked with t
he strength of several men, and Pat and Ruth were hard-pressed to hold him to the bed. Ned grabbed hold of Fred and helped them keep him down. After a long half a minute Fred arched his back, let out another strangled scream, and collapsed onto the bed.
Pat leaned back breathing hard and Ruth stepped to the edge of the bed. Ned stumbled backwards into the chair beside the bed. He leaned on his staff while his hands wrapped around his staff violently shook. "He will be fine now," Ned wheezed.
"Was that necessary?" Pat asked him.
Ned gave a nod. "Quite necessary. A detached soul is like a blazing candle. It burns the brightest, but is soon extinguished."
"What does that mean for Fred?" Ruth spoke up.
"It means the candle of his life was quickly being snuffed out," Ned told her.
The color drained from the faces of the two young women. "You mean he was dying?" Pat asked him.
Ned chuckled. There wasn't any mirth in the sound. "We are all dying, my dear Pat, but to answer your question, yes. Fred was dying at a much faster rate than was normal."
Pat's eyes widened and she whipped her head back to Fred. "How much faster?"
He stood and set a hand on her quivering shoulder. "Not by a great amount. We were fortunate to catch it before he worsened."
"But how long?" she insisted.
"A year or two of his life was extinguished."
Pat shuddered and clasped one of Fred's hands in hers. "Do you believe that castor will return?"
Ned's hand slid off her shoulder and he shuffled over to the single window. He looked out on the wide expanse of streets before he shut the clapboard shutters. "There is always that chance and that is why we must remain close beside him, at least for the time being"
At that moment Fred shifted atop the covers and his eyes fluttered open. Pat was relieved to see they were the normal brown color. "What happened?" he whispered.
"We dragged you back here and Ned healed you with soul magic," Pat told him.
Fred furrowed his brow. "Soul magic?"
"It's an ancient skill used to transfer souls, or at least parts of them, from one body to another," Ned explained. He shuffled back to the bed and stood over the young man with his mischievous smile on his lips. "I expect you to make good use of mine."
Fred gingerly touched his chest. "Your soul is inside me?" he asked Ned.
"Only a very small portion. Nothing to worry about," Ned assured him.
Fred tried to sit up, but Pat pushed him back onto the pillows. "I am not letting you up so you can find more trouble," she scolded.
"What about that guy?" Fred wondered.
"Cast off somewhere else which leaves your biggest concern a good night's rest," Ned replied.
"What about the tournament tomorrow?" Ruth reminded them.
"Fred won't be in it," Pat quietly commented.
"We should leave that decision to Fred," Ned scolded her.
Pat whipped her head over to him and her eyes sparked with anger. "He's in no condition to get out of bed, much less fly-"
"I can do it," Fred spoke up. Everyone turned to him in surprise.
Ned furrowed his brow. "Are you sure? You're very weak from the battle, and you might not be recovered come tomorrow afternoon."
"Today's afternoon. It is past midnight," Ruth corrected him.
"I think I can do it, and besides, it won't be just me up there," he reminded them. His eyes fell on Ruth and she smiled. "I think we can do it."
Pat rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth twitched upward in a smile. "Of all the times you have to be brave it would be to get yourself killed in that contraption."
"Now that that's settled, we should be settled for what remains of this night," Ned insisted.
"I'll watch over Fred until he falls asleep," Pat offered.
"And I will assist you," Ruth promised.
Ned smiled, but shook his head. "And deprive an old man of his sleep? You are in my bedroom, also," Ned reminded them. "No, I will attend to him and let you have the sleep." He scooted Pat off the bed and both of the girls over to the door. "We will call you if anything is needed, and scream if there's trouble." Pat glanced over her shoulder and scowled at him. Ned chuckled and opened the door for her. "A joke, my dear Pat. We'll be fine, I assure you."
Pat looked over to Fred and her face softened. "I guess this is goodnight."
"Goodnight," Fred replied.
Pat cast one more glare at Ned, then Ruth accompanied her to their room. Ned shut the door behind her and shuffled over to the chair beside the bed.
Fred watched his slow movements. "Are you all right?" he asked the old castor.
Ned eased himself into the chair and chuckled. "Do you ever concern yourself with your own health?" he wondered.
Fred shrugged. "I feel fine."
"No tenseness or feeling of being stretched?" Ned asked him. Fred shook his head. Ned leaned back in his chair and smiled. "Good. The worst is over."
"What was the worst of it?" Fred asked him.
"A shortening of your life."
Fred's eyes widened and he sat up. "What?" he yelped.
Ned put his hand on one of the young man's shoulders and pushed him back down to the bed. "No good deed goes unpunished, and one or two years off your life is your punishment for saving Pat."
"But how?" he questioned his master.
"Your soul was partially extracted from your body and left hanging in that position. It felt vulnerable and exerted itself as a form of protection," Ned explained to him. "The exertion was a strain on your body and soul, and those years of your life were lost because of it."
Fred lay his head on his pillow and the color drained from his face. "Will it happen again?" he whispered.
"I will ensure it does not," Ned assured him. There was such determination that Fred turned his head toward Ned. The old castor sat partially in the shadows of the dark room with his staff standing in front of him. Ned's hands tightly clenched the wood, but there was a small tremor in them.
It reminded Fred of the castor who attacked him. "That guy who attacked me. He said some things I don't get," he told Ned.
Ned stiffened, and his voice sounded strained. "What did he say?"
"He said something about knowing me, but then he changed his mind," Fred revealed. His eyes widened when he recalled one important bit. "And he could he use my staff, but how? Not even you can do that."
Ned leaned back and sighed. "A skilled castor is capable of learning many things."
"But how'd he learn to do that?" Fred persisted. He grimaced against his aching body and turned his head away. "And how did Martley know I'd have to worry about him?"
Ned's eyebrows shot up. "Martley? What has she to do with this?"
"I saw her at the Senex. The guards told me she was a soothsayer, and she told my fortune. She said to beware of men who wore white," Fred told him.
Ned frowned and pursed his lips. "Most mysterious, this Lady Martley. I can't recall ever having met her, but she seems very interested in you."
Fred furrowed his brow. "Why should you know her?" he asked him.
Any reply from Ned was interrupted when they heard a pair of footsteps come down the hall. There was a knock on their door. "Ned? Fred?" Percy called through the closed entrance.
"Enter," Ned replied.
The door opened, and Percy and Canto strode into the room. Canto pushed past Percy and marched up to the bed. "What are ya two thinking making an earthquake with all those people out there?" he growled. "Half the city's panicking and the other half is starting to panic."
"I regret to say it wasn't us," Ned told him.
"But you know who did it?" Percy guessed.
"Another castor. He attacked Fred and escaped," Ned replied.
Percy and Canto glanced at the young man in the bed. Fred's skin was still pale and his hands trembled atop the sheets. "Attacked why?" Percy asked Ned.
"He wanted my soul," Fred answered him.
Canto's bushy eyebrow
s crashed low over his eyes. "That's a dangerous thing for a castor to be wanting." He turned to Ned. "Any idea why he was looking to steal Fred's when there's plenty easier ones to be taking?"
"That is a question best answered by the attacker," Ned replied.
"Do you think he will try the attack again?" Percy wondered.
Ned shook his head. "No, I don't believe he will. He risked a great deal revealing himself to us, and won't do it again so soon."
Percy leaned against the end of the bed and his eyes flitted between Ned and Fred. "Any idea who it was?"
"He hid his face under a hood, but I saw he had blue eyes and pale skin," Fred replied.
Canto frowned. "Not much to go on if we're wanting to find him before he finds us again."
"Let us hope he doesn't interrupt us again before the tournament," Ned commented.
"Don't tell me Fred here's still flying in that death trap," Canto wondered.
"Flying and winning," Ned corrected him.
Percy smiled and looked Fred over. "Then we'll wish you well and let you rest."
Percy and Canto left, and Fred leaned back against the pillow and sighed. "I'm getting really tired of waking up in beds. . ." he grumbled.
"Better than a coffin," Ned pointed out.
Fred cringed. "Thanks. That makes me feel a lot better."
Ned grinned. "I try, and if you'll excuse me I'll rest these old bones of mine on the floor." Ned shuffled over to the center of the room and pulled out a half dozen blankets from his robe. He plopped them on the ground, burrowed his way into them, and in a few minutes was snoring in dreamland.
Fred stayed awake a while longer and pondered the stranger's words to him, and the theft of part of his soul. He shuddered when he thought of those thin, bony fingers touching his astral being. "Why me?" he mumbled as he rolled over and closed his eyes. In a few minutes he also was asleep.
CHAPTER 23
There was a knock on the door of Fred and Ned's room in the late afternoon of the next day. "Are you up?" Pat called to them.
Ned sat up with his hat askew and his robe still dirty. "Yes, and decent," Ned replied.
The Unwilling Aviator (Book 4) Page 14
