If the storm got any worse, they’d not make it to the passes, much less through them. Xan and Lainey hunched near their horses necks, having given up on playing with their flames.
An hour later, a gust almost knocked Dylan off his horse, and what had been wet snow turned into an icy mix, making the rock path slick. Spear’s every step risked disaster, and none of them were far from frostbite. They’d not survive the night outside.
Brant dismounted under an overhanging rock that offered some cover from the maelstrom and waited for the others to gather close enough around him to hear over the wind. “Big Mouth Cave is the only shelter I can think of, but with the snow covering all the landmarks, we’d never find it. Anyone got any other ideas?”
Dylan shook his head emphatically. “Bad idea even if we could get there. Wilfred says there’s a huge bear living in it.”
“He’d call an alley cat a tiger.” Brant stomped his feet and flapped his arms around in his cloak. “Pointless to talk about anyway. C’mon. Suggestions?”
Dylan hugged himself against a gust. “Sorry.”
“You can sense the cave!” Xan said. “Simply locate the absence of mass.
Simply! Brant clenched the hilt of his sword. “I’m not a mage.”
“Motivation is important,” Xan said. “If Lainey could surge over a hair ribbon, saving our lives should work for you.”
Could he actually be right? Brant closed his eyes. It’d be so perfect to save everyone while becoming a mage. He focused on his need to find an area inside the mountain where there was no mass of rock and poured every ounce of his being into how much he wanted it.
Wind battered him with icy blasts. Snow seeped under every edge of his clothes. His lips trembled. No defeat. Ignore the weather.
But no amount of dressing-down or dire need worked. Great. They were all going to die because of a little chill.
After what seemed like an eternity but was probably only around ten minutes, he reopened his eyes. “It’s no use. I’m freezing.”
“This cold and wet sucks so much energy from fire.” Xan let out a long breath. “Everyone step back.”
The group widened their circle, and he threw his stick onto the ground in the center. A tiny flame popped from it, and Brant wondered what good it would do. Fire exploded upward, and a wave of heat forced him back a step.
Lainey copied Xan, and a second flame, roughly two-thirds the size of the first, added to the heat. Weirdly, the orange tongues didn’t eat much of the sticks. How cool was that?
A good swordsman could help win a battle. A mage could help win a war. Brant’s icy hands and face thawed. Warmth soaked through his clothes.
“You can start any time now.” Xan’s face tensed. “I can’t keep this going for long.”
“Oh, right.” After closing his eyes again, Brant tried to focus, but still the magic wouldn’t come.
He wished. He wheedled. He pleaded. Nothing worked.
“This is ridiculous,” Dylan said. “We’ve got to get out of this storm.”
Brant popped open his eyes. “That’s what I’m trying to do! Give me a few more minutes.”
Xan’s body trembled. “Maybe if you—”
“Both of you shut up!” Brant said. “I’ve got this.”
The snowfall ebbed, and a rock standing on an overhang caught his attention. Maybe making the stone heavy enough to fall would be an easier wish for the magic to grant.
Lainey swayed and reached a hand out to Xan. Her fire disappeared.
“You okay?” Xan said.
“Dizzy. Couldn’t keep it going any longer. Sorry.”
“Not your fault.” Xan’s flame flickered. “I won’t last much longer.” He swayed, and the fire sputtered again.
Brant had to hurry. With every part of his being, he wished for the rock to break the ledge. Something opened inside his mind.
A flood of raw power rushed through him. The boulder snapped the overhang with a loud crack and tumbled into a crevice. Brant pumped his fist.
Xan’s legs buckled, and he sank to his knees. His fire vanished. Cold assaulted the group. It didn’t matter. Brant had it.
He was dimly aware of Dylan and Lainey helping Xan up, of them discussing why the two of them had both felt dizzy, wondering if it was something to do with the magic or just the fatigue.
All around Brant, he felt mass. Stones on hillsides. Pinecones on trees. A squirrel’s store of acorns in a nest. The heavier the object, the stronger he sensed it. He scanned the mountain and discovered a void.
“There.” Brant pointed upslope above the treeline to the left. “That’s it.” He pulled Spear’s lead reins and cut a diagonal path away from the trail.
“Are you sure about this?” Dylan said.
“No,” Xan said, “but it’s our best option.”
Grabbing stray limbs for a fire later, the four clumped together as they stumbled up the steep incline. Fresh snow concealed holes, crevices, and loose rocks. Brant didn’t have much trouble, but he couldn’t say the same for Xan, who slipped many times and only kept from tumbling down the incline by keeping a death grip on Honey.
At the bottom of an even steeper slope, Brant stopped and pointed. “The mouth is up there.” His breath came in ragged spurts, and the others were in worse shape. “We’ll rest for a minute before making the final push.”
“Are bears hibernating by now?” Lainey yelled against the gale.
Brant braced himself against a strong blast. “Not likely. This storm is early.”
“I don’t like this,” Dylan yelled. “It’s crazy to go into a bear’s den.”
“It’s better to stay out here?” Brant panted. “Besides, it’s a huge cavern, and I doubt Wilfred was even telling the truth.”
Xan looked up at the cave mouth. “Only thing we can do is deal with whatever comes.”
“If we do see one, promise me you won’t set it on fire.” Brant shivered. “Last thing I want is a huge flaming bear chasing me.”
23.
Xan trudged up to the outcropping covering the cave’s mouth, exhausted by the time he reached level ground. At least he hadn’t embarrassed himself by falling.
Bent over with his arms braced on his knees, he struggled to breathe, inhaling and exhaling great gulps of thin air. When he’d recovered, he glanced around him. With the exception of Brant, the others looked to be in almost as bad shape. The overhang covered a large area, maybe fifty feet wide and half again as tall. About seventy feet in, the walls tapered into a corridor.
No time to rest. The sooner they got fully out of the weather, the better, and it was up to him to make sure they were all safe. He motioned for the others to stay behind and ignited a small fire on the end of the stick he carried. It cast deep, gloomy shadows as he moved further under the shelter.
Using magic was easier without the wet snow falling on him, but Xan was weak from the earlier strain. His head swam. “Will the horses be okay here?”
Dylan, wheezing, locked his hands behind his head. “It’s wide, out of the wet, and three sides are protected from the wind. Should be fine.”
Brant just glared. What was wrong with him? Oh. He’d probably interpreted reasonable suggestions as orders.
Xan would have to do a better job of making the muscle-bound idiot feel in charge. So stupid. He threw a bundle of firewood on the ground and lit it. “What now, Brant?”
“Get the horses settled.”
Really? That was the priority over making sure the cave was safe so they could use it as a shelter?
“Got it.” Xan moved toward Honey before pausing dramatically in mid step. “If there is a bear, it wouldn’t attack us out here, would it?”
Dylan paled. “It might …”
Brant sighed. “We should check the cave first.”
Good grief!
“All of us?” Xan said. “What about taking care of the horses?”
Brant decided that Lainey and Dylan should remain behind.
Holding
a lit, oil-soaked rag wrapped around a piece of firewood, Brant entered the tunnel leading from the cave mouth. Xan followed with his magically-burning torch. The floor descended at an abrupt angle just past the entry, and moisture coated every surface. Several yards in, Xan’s feet slid and only luck in bracing himself against the tight walls prevented him from falling. They slowed an already mincing pace.
What if there really were a bear? So much easier to scoff at Dylan while outside.
Xan inched downward, feeling like he was about to slide into a great abyss at any instant. The gloom absorbed the meager light from his torch. Brant held his sword before him. Was that good, in that he was ready for trouble? Or bad, in that there might be trouble to be ready for?
Xan shuddered. If there were an attack, what could he do about it?
After several hundred feet, the treacherous path leveled, and the tunnel opened. His torch held high, Xan followed Brant slowly forward. The light did little to penetrate the stifling darkness.
“How big is this place?” Xan said.
“Just this room is as tall as the mayor’s tower and as long as Main Street and just wait till you get to the next one.” After Brant’s last word died, he waited a few moments, listening, before continuing forward. A dozen yards later, he froze.
Xan plowed into him. “Watch it!”
“Me? You’re the one who—”
“Why the blast did you stop?” Xan said.
“Thought I heard something.”
A shadow moved. A bear! No. Just the flame flickering.
“Enough of this.” Xan snapped a chunk from his stick and threw it ahead. The wood landed, and he exploded a shaft of fire from it. The flare reached twenty feet high and revealed the entire room.
There were no signs of life.
To the right, an hour-glass-shaped, rippled column stretched to the ceiling, and Xan’s curiosity drove him to touch it. The shimmering surface appeared fluid but was just solid rock coated with moisture.
Something hit his head, and he jumped, his heart thudding hard. His probing finger found a wet spot in his hair. Just a bit of water. Plinks sounded all around him. He was stupid not to have expected it. “There’s no bear at least.”
“The cave goes on for miles,” Brant said. “We’ll check the next room, too.”
Traipse around just to soothe Dylan’s irrational fear? Not when Lainey was still exposed to the elements.
“No way,” Xan said. “Time to set up camp.”
“So you’re making all the decisions now?” Brant’s voice came out clipped.
How could that benign, logical statement lead to an objection?
“Sorry, oh imperial great lord high commander, sir, to suggest the only reasonable course of action. Won’t happen again, oh imperial great lord high commander, sir.”
Brant tensed his muscles and flexed his hand.
If Xan wasn’t careful, the two of them were going to get in a fight. Either he’d end up with a broken jaw, or Brant would be burned to a crisp. Or both.
“Look,” Xan said. “My soaked feet are blocks of ice, and I’m blasted exhausted. I just want to sit by a warm fire, and if we hustle, I can get some real sleep before nightfall. Please?”
Brant’s expression softened, but chilly silence built between them as they retrieved the others. In relative quiet through several trips to the horses to fetch saddlebags and wood, they set up camp inside the cave at a flat area to the side of the entrance.
Xan sighed, glad for a chance to finally rest, as he sat next to a pile of logs he’d ignited. As they ate a hastily warmed dinner, Dylan kept fidgeting and casting his eyes toward the back of the cave, barely touching his food.
Xan dearly hoped what he knew was coming didn’t come. He hunched his shoulders when Dylan opened his mouth.
“I don’t like this,” Dylan said. “What about the bear?”
Xan groaned, and Lainey shot him a glare.
Dylan stared at the darkness. “It’s going to smell our cooking and attack us. I know it.”
“Yeah,” Brant said, “we probably should have checked more of the cave.”
“We still can,” Lainey said. “I’d like to explore a bit anyway, and we’ll all sleep better knowing we’re safe.”
After a quick discussion and over Xan’s objections, she and Brant rose, leaving Dylan to tend the fire. Xan eyed his bedroll. If there were a bear, he couldn’t leave his sister to face it without him. He got up and followed after them.
They wove a path around strange rock formations. A tunnel roughly five feet in diameter shot off to the right, and Xan crouched as they examined every inch of it. By the fifth one they passed, they barely gave it a glance.
“Would a bear set up its den this deep?” Lainey said.
Brant shrugged. “I’ve got no idea how one would act in a cavern this big.”
“If this doesn’t shut Dylan up, I’m going to strangle him.” Xan stifled a yawn.
At the back of the room, the walls and roof converged into a short passage a few feet taller than Xan and not much wider. They crossed through it, and the cavern opened into a space humongous even in comparison to the first chamber. Both Lainey and Xan threw chunks of wood ahead of them, but even their combined efforts failed to create enough light to see to the end.
“Goodness,” Lainey said, “all Eagleton would fit in here, but what’s that smell?”
Xan sniffed. Above the smoke and the earthy, damp scent of the cave, a musky odor tickled his nostrils.
“Definitely an animal.” Brant shook his head. “I wouldn’t have believed it, but Wilfred might actually be right.”
The low rumble of the burning fires obscured all sounds besides plinks of falling water and the rustling of their clothes. Brant instructed the alchemists to kill the flames so he could listen.
The darkness closed around Xan like a loft’s worth of hay being dumped on his head, and his first impulse was to restart the fire. He imagined giant spiders with huge fangs all around him, and his heart pounded.
A muffled but distinct hissing echoed through the chamber.
“That’s breathing,” Xan said.
“Shhh,” Brant said. “Don’t draw its attention.”
Gravel crunched. The beast clearly moved toward them.
“Too late.” Xan relit his torch, but it provided too little light. He let it burn naturally while he flared the chunk of wood.
Lainey did the same.
A huge, shadowy mass of dark brown fur lumbered toward them at the far extent of the range of the light. As it approached, it reared and let out an ear-shattering bellow. At full height, it topped Xan by a good yard.
“What now?” Xan said.
“Kill it?” Brant said.
“No!” Lainey said. “Don’t hurt it.”
“What do you want us to do? Sling it over our shoulders and carry it outside?” Xan couldn’t take his eyes off the creature. “Any idea how to kill it?”
Brant responded, but Xan didn’t hear it. What if he held energy from a fire inside a barrier like they’d done at the tree? Conceivably, he could build up a tremendous amount inside. Then, if he made a tiny hole …
Worth a shot.
Xan let go of the magic feeding his flare, and it shrunk to the size of a flickering candle. He lit his torch and shielded it. The fire went black.
The bear lowered itself back to the ground. It lumbered toward them again, slowly at first but picking up speed.
Xan poured magic into the shielded fire, and heat battered at the barrier. The bear charged at a dead run. Brant moved in front of Lainey, his tiny sword pointed forward. If Xan’s idea didn’t work the way he thought or if he missed or if any one of an infinite number of problems occurred, one or more of them would probably die.
The raw power inside the sphere grew, and Xan spent more effort restraining it than adding to it. Hunting parties usually required a dozen men armed with bows and special spears to take down one of the huge creatures. If his method wo
rked, he’d kill one by himself. Skinny, weak, powerless him.
Spots danced before his eyes. He almost lost the containment. Given the amount of energy he held, he’d kill himself and his friends if his concentration wavered. He had to keep it together.
The bear neared to mere feet. It slowed and stretched onto its hind legs. Towering above the small party, it roared again. Brant stabbed at it with his sword, but the bear swatted the blade away. It flew from his hand and landed with a clank several yards away.
Xan felt faint. His head spun. All thoughts fled his mind. He clung to his hold on the shield with ferocious tenacity.
The bear raised its claw. The set of its mouth mocked Xan with an arrogant sneer.
Dirc Layman.
The bear lurched toward him. Xan lined up the center of the torch and imagined a bit-sized hole. A stream of pure white light lanced through the beast’s forehead. It remained upright for an instant before collapsing in a heap. Pungent smoke from charred flesh assaulted Xan’s nostrils.
His head swam. More spots danced before his eyes, and the cave spun. Pain throbbed against his head like a hammer on an anvil. His knees buckled.
He pitched forward.
24.
Xan moaned. He opened his eyes to find himself lying beside a small campfire.
Every part of his body ached. When he tried to rise, a bolt of pain shot through his head, and his stomach rolled. He collapsed back to the ground and kept still until the agony and queasiness subsided.
Where was he?
Complete blackness surrounded the bubble of light created by the flame. No twinkling points of light decorated the sky, and no wind brushed his cheeks. Hard rock lay beneath him. A drop of water hit his forehead.
The cave. The bear.
Something moved at the edge of his sight. He tilted his head to see and winced.
Lainey walked into view, her face worn with concern. “Are you okay?” She sat on a rock next to him.
“What happened?”
Lainey described a lance of flame exploding from his torch. “Brant calls it your ‘fiery death blast.’” She tried to grin, but it came off as more of a grimace. “Then, you fell and wouldn’t wake. We moved the camp here instead of trying to drag you all the way back to the other one.” She paused. “You’ll have to teach me how to do that.”
Rise of the Mages (Rise of the Mages 2) Page 11
