Rise of the Mages (Rise of the Mages 2)

by Foster, Brian W.

  “It'd serve him right,” Dylan said.

  As abruptly as the inferno had begun, it shrank back to its normal size. Steam rolled off Xan, who appeared unharmed. He tore a splinter from the torch and tossed it into the chasm. As the sliver of wood floated downward, a flame ignited on it, creating a pulse of light.

  “There she is!” Brant yelled.

  A couple hundred feet down the sloped side of the ravine, Lainey lay on a rock ledge jutting from the wall, her body curled into a fetal position with Xan’s cloak pulled over her head. The top of her raven hair peeked out, and piles of snow covered her legs and back. Only inches of stone separated her from a fall of unknown distance.

  “She’s alive, right?” Xan said, his voice ragged. “She has to be.”

  Dylan held his breath. Her foot twitched.

  “Yes!” Brant yelled.

  “Shut up. You might wake her.” Xan’s whole demeanor was quiet, subdued.

  “Isn’t that what we want?” Brant said.

  “I don’t know.” Xan sank to his knees.

  Dylan and Brant stared at him, waiting. Treatment of the injured was Xan’s area of expertise. Instead of telling them what to do, he buried his face in his hands.

  “This is my fault.” Xan’s words came out muffled. “What do we do?”

  Xan had led them into this situation, and when they needed him, he broke down? Dylan wanted to slap him.

  Before he could, Brant laid a hand gently on Xan’s shoulder. “You said not to wake her. Why not?”

  Xan muttered something, but the words got lost under a gust of wind.

  “C’mon man, tell me.”

  Xan ran a hand through his hair. “Life force flows more strongly when you’re asleep or unconscious, healing you faster.”

  He stood and threw another sliver. It burst into flame as it passed Lainey’s trembling body. “If it weren’t for the cold, I’d say let her rest until we figure out how to rescue her. Every second risks her getting frostbite, though. I don’t know what to do.”

  “We can start by warming her,” Brant said. “You got any ideas on how to do that?”

  “Can’t you light her clothes on fire or something?” Dylan said.

  Xan shook his head.

  Dylan wanted to throttle him. “You just did it for yourself!”

  “You want to risk me not getting the shield just right and burning her?” Xan stared into the dark crevasse.

  “Better that than—”

  “Shut up and let me think.” Xan tore off a chunk of bark from the torch and handed it to Brant. “Can you land that near Lainey’s head?”

  Brant’s face showed grim determination. “How close?”

  “A couple of feet?”

  “I can do better than that.”

  Xan jerked his head back and forth. “Can you just do exactly what I tell you? Please?” He looked like he was going to cry. “I’m going to use it to warm her. It can’t be too close.”

  After Xan tossed another sliver into the ravine and lit it, Brant let loose. The wood landed with a plop exactly two feet, as far as Dylan could tell, from Lainey. It ignited, and soon, her trembling eased.

  “Now, we wake her,” Brant said.

  Xan said, “But what about—”

  “Command decision.” Brant narrowed his eyes. “My call.”

  Xan looked like he was about to argue before nodding his head. Tension noticeably eased from his tight muscles as he cupped his hands around his mouth. “Lainey!”

  When she didn’t respond, he tried a few more times. Dylan called out, too, and Brant joined in.

  “This isn’t working.” Xan chucked a snowball at Lainey. It flew wide and disappeared into the darkness below. “Why can’t I do anything right?”

  The question came out low, and Dylan didn’t think Xan meant it to be heard.

  Xan turned to Brant. “You’re going to have to wake her. Gently, though. Don’t startle her. If she moves, she could tumble down.”

  Brant threw a loosely-packed snowball into the ravine. It arched perfectly and splatted against Lainey’s shoulder.

  Lainey’s eyes fluttered open. After rubbing them, she half waved at them before wincing and clutching her arm.

  “Careful!” Xan yelled. “Don’t fall!”

  Lainey glanced around, her eyes going wide as she took in her surroundings.

  “Are you injured?”

  She shook her head and grimaced. Typical Lainey. If she were missing a limb, she’d play it off as normal.

  “Can you feel your extremities?”

  She flexed her arms and legs. “I’m okay.” A tremor racked her body, and her face contorted.

  “Can’t you see she’s freezing?” Dylan said. “Light another fire by her feet.”

  For all his smarts, Xan would forget to eat if he got too focused on something else.

  He swayed. “Too much effort. I’m already risking passing out.”

  Was he going to shoot down every suggestion? Dylan wanted to strangle him. “How do we get her up?”

  Xan exhaled sharply and stared at his sister. “You’re the only one who can do this.”

  Dylan started. “Me? How?”

  Xan met his eyes, and Dylan understood. They wanted him to use magic. There had to be some other way.

  “Why can’t we use rope?”

  “We don’t have enough,” Brant said.

  Dylan couldn’t believe they’d ask this of him. He clutched his medallion. “There’s more in the cave!”

  “Lainey doesn’t have that much time,” Xan whispered. “I hate her being down there hurt. I hate asking this of you. I hate not being able to save her myself.”

  Brant frowned before giving a curt, grim nod.

  Dylan had no need to be the one to rescue Lainey. In fact, he’d love to let either of them do the job.

  But neither could.

  If he saved her, he’d be a mage. His life would be over. No more building his family’s business. The best he could hope for was obscure exile while always looking over his shoulder for a catcher. More likely, a jolt at the end of a rope in the near future.

  How could he sacrifice everything and become a lawless, filthy mage?

  Dylan looked at Lainey. Obviously, she’d been following the conversation, though he couldn’t tell how much had made it to her over the wind. Her eyes were wide, her face sympathetic. She made no demand of him, no request.

  He shut his eyes. She’d never make such. Instead, she’d accept that she and Xan got her into this situation, would understand what becoming a mage meant to Dylan’s future.

  Dylan returned his gaze to the crevasse. A shudder ran through her despite the fire, and he sighed. “What do I do?”

  “Have you ever dreamed of flying?” Xan yelled down to Lainey, his grim face a sharp contrast to the lightness of his tone.

  She shook her head.

  “Stand up and get ready.”

  She didn’t move, her expression showing her doubt, until she shivered again. With a determined look, she pulled herself upright using a rock protruding from the side of the ravine. When her right foot touched the ground, she winced and teetered backward, her boot scraping snow off the narrow ledge into the blackness below.

  Dylan’s breath caught, but she steadied herself.

  “Ready,” she yelled.

  Xan pointed to a spot behind them. “Wish hard for her to land in the snow over there.”

  Dylan bit his lip. “What if I send her a mile high?”

  “Trust the magic.”

  Dylan didn't trust anything about magic, but what choice did he have? He stared down at Lainey, his mind a complete blank and his fingers tight around his medallion.

  Such a bad decision. He had to stop choosing friendship over profit.

  But not today.

  He let out a long, slow breath and narrowed his eyes. A wave of power, stronger than a ceiling-high pile of gold coins falling over, washed through him. He staggered as it poured from him.
<
br />   Lainey launched into the air as fast as a horse at a trot. Her head flew back as her cloak, trousers, and boots hoisted her upward. As she cleared the lip heading straight for Xan, he dove into a snow drift. Brant caught her and swung her gently to the ground.

  “That’s it, then,” Dylan said. “Guess I’m a mage.”

  Xan brushed off the snow and stood. He looked back toward Eagleton. “More reason than ever that we have to hurry. Justav’s campfire is out; he’s on the move.”

  29.

  Xan scrambled to his feet, slinging chunks of snow in all directions.

  Why had he allowed Lainey to come with them? Why hadn’t he forbidden her to go for firewood? Why was he so weak?

  He bore the blame for her every bump and bruise.

  And he hadn’t even played a part in her rescue, reduced to observing as Dylan saved her and Brant caught her. Actually, Xan hadn’t even watched. He’d been face down in the snow as she’d landed. How incompetent could he be?

  Lainey lowered herself to the ground, and other than trembling like a puppy in a winter rain, she seemed fine.

  Xan hurtled, slipping and sliding, across the uneven terrain toward her. “Where are you hurt?”

  “Nowhere.”

  At least she didn’t stick her tongue out at him. If the stupid girl had a lance sticking through her, she’d deny there was anything wrong. Not actually expecting her to change her answer, Xan imitated one of her infamous glares.

  “My left shoulder is sore, and my right foot is a bit gimpy.” Lainey shivered, which led to a wince.

  She admitted to being hurt? He couldn’t imagine how she felt. Alone and injured stuck in a crevice in a blizzard, she must have been scared of dying. And she must still be freezing.

  Her clothes were damp and her face red. He needed to raise her body temperature. Fast.

  “Someone get me a torch.” He’d dry her clothes while protecting her with a shield. Easy enough to allow a bit of heat through the barrier. She’d be nice and toasty in no time.

  “No magic,” Brant said. “You’ll lead the catcher right to us.”

  Xan paused. With Justav on the move, using more magic would be like lighting a huge signal flare.

  Lainey shivered again, and her eyelids fluttered.

  “While we stand around chatting, the cold’s eating her fingers and toes,” Xan said. “How do you expect us to escape if she can’t travel?”

  Brant hesitated only an instant before holding out his torch. Xan snatched it and carried out his plan. Even keeping the magic use quick and small, there was no way Justav could have missed it.

  Xan quickly examined her injuries, discovering her ankle to be sprained and her shoulder to be only bruised. The foot would be painful, especially when it stiffened, but she could walk on it. They bound it with a strip from Brant’s undershirt.

  “She’ll be fine,” Xan said. “Help me with her.”

  Lainey pulled away. “I can do it myself.”

  “Sure you can,” Xan said. “And you can fall and hurt yourself again and make us take hours to help you that we could have used getting away.”

  Lainey hid her face by turning it to the side. Dylan actually gasped. A strained silence fell over the group.

  “Lainey …” Xan couldn’t think of anything to say, an apology that would be in any way adequate. “I’m just so frustrated and tired. I didn’t mean …”

  She still wouldn’t look at him. Nothing could take back the words.

  The only good result was that she stopped resisting assistance. He and Brant pulled her up without letting her put weight on the injured ankle.

  “Go ahead and test it,” Xan said.

  She touched the tip of her boot to the ground. A scowl crossed her face, and she planted the whole foot. It held, but the pain displayed in her expression hit Xan like a bolt.

  He had to get them safely away from Justav. After that, Xan would go his own way. Get her out of danger.

  “Bring Cuppy over,” Xan told Dylan. “Brant and I will put her in the saddle.”

  “No,” Brant said.

  Was the big idiot going to object to every sensible suggestion? “Fine. Dylan and I will do it.”

  “You’re not putting her on the horse,” Brant said.

  “Do you know how much time it’ll take with her limping? I want her out of this cold; I want us away from Justav; and I want her taking something for the pain.” Xan cursed himself for not bringing his supplies from the cave.

  Brant pointed back toward the cave. “Do you know how easy it would be for Cuppy to dump her going up that slope with all those loose rocks and holes buried under the snow?”

  Xan glanced up the mountain. It did look awfully treacherous. “Fine.”

  “You don’t know everything. Step back, and I’ll get us out of this mess.” Brant turned and headed the direction he had pointed.

  Xan ran his hands through his hair. Why couldn’t he do anything right? How was he going to get them out of danger if he couldn’t even get his sister back to the cave?

  As they took off after Brant, Lainey, leaning on Cuppy for support, recoiled when Xan attempted to help, so he left her alone. She did, at least, allow Dylan to assist over particularly rough patches.

  Without the howling wind, the exertion of climbing had his chest, arms, and legs sweating. At the same time, his face, hands, and feet burned with cold. If he could’ve used his ability, he’d have been fine. But he couldn’t.

  By the time they reached the overhang at the mouth of the cave, he’d spent the most miserable hour of his life. Every part of him felt stressed beyond repair. All he wanted was to sit in front of a warm fire, but there was work to be done.

  He sighed and turned to Dylan. “You help Lainey to the campsite. Fix her tea for pain and pack everything. Brant and I will get firewood and bring the horses.”

  Brant’s face turned scarlet.

  “Let’s count how many ways that’s idiotic,” Dylan said. “One, you’re an apothecary while I’ve no idea how to fix the tea. Two, you’re about to freeze to death while I’m wearing appropriate clothing. Three, you barely know a saddle from a bridle while I—”

  “All I have to do is lead them by the reins,” Xan said. “How hard can it be?”

  “Can’t you, for once, just let the people who actually know what they’re doing …” Brant gritted his teeth before turning and yanking Spear’s reins.

  Xan glared after him before stooping to let Lainey grab his shoulder. Of course, she refused until a few hesitant paces on her own convinced her otherwise.

  Her hobbled steps set the pace, and in an awkward, slow, limping fashion, they traipsed down the tunnel. She cried out a few times and relief showed on her face when they finally reached the campsite.

  He started a fire—mundanely, and how he regretted not being able to use magic—and brewed honeybud tea for her. She sipped her medicine silently while he watched.

  The thought of Justav closing in on them was like an itch between his shoulder blades no amount of scratching could relieve. Xan stood. At the very least, he could have everything ready to move for when the others arrived.

  He dug through Brant’s saddlebags until he found a wooden cask with drain holes in the bottom and a bag of curing compound. After thoroughly rubbing the salt-and-sugar mixture over the surface of each cut of bear meat, he placed over twenty pounds in the container.

  With that task dealt with, he organized the rest of their supplies. He had everything packed and bear steaks cooking by the time noises approached from the direction of the cave’s entrance.

  “Get a move on, you stupid soon-to-be bottle of glue!” Brant’s muffled voice yelled.

  He emerged an instant later tugging hard on leather reins. No sooner did Spear’s nostrils appear than the huge stallion bolted forward. Brant dove to the side as the horse disappeared into darkness.

  Trotting placidly, Honey came into view, and a few minutes later, Cuppy bolted out. As Brant rushed to comfort
the mare, Dylan burst into view, straining to pull Clover. Sweat dripped down the faces of both man and animal.

  With Clover out and hastily secured, Dylan plopped in front of the fire, guzzling the canteen of water Lainey offered him. Brant gazed after Spear before shaking his head and joining the rest of the group. Lainey glared at Xan until he rose to secure the mounts.

  That chore accomplished, Xan returned to the fire where the rest hadn’t even started eating. With a sigh, he served the meat and wolfed his down. He couldn’t keep from glancing back at the opening constantly and bounded from his seat as soon as the last bite cleared his throat.

  The others didn’t take the hint. Lainey continued with her dainty bites. Brant and Dylan barely had enough energy to chew, so the meal took forever.

  Xan bit the insides of his cheeks to keep from saying anything until the last plate and fork were tossed aside. He waited for Brant to call for them to move.

  A minute passed. Five. No one said a word.

  Xan fidgeted and tapped his foot, but the muscle-bound idiot didn’t notice. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. “What the blast are we waiting for?”

  Brant stifled a yawn. “We’re all exhausted.”

  Xan bounced on his toes. “And we’re all going to be dead when Justav gets us.”

  “We’d never have found the cave without me guiding us here. No way the catcher’s going to find it as long as you don’t use any more magic,” Brant said.

  “You didn’t think he’d leave Eagleton so quickly either, but he’s right on our tail,” Xan said. “All he has to do is stumble across our tracks in the snow.”

  Brant rolled his eyes. “Did you happen to notice how big the mountain is?”

  Dylan cleared his throat. “Might be prudent to keep moving.”

  Brant mouthed “Why me?” before taking a deep breath. “Will Lainey’s foot take walking? The ceiling’s not tall enough for riding after we leave this room.”

  “It’s not like we can wait around for it to get better,” Xan said. “As long as she can stand the pain, she can make it.”

  Lainey gritted her teeth. “Don’t worry about me.”

  “We’ll have to take more frequent rest stops,” Xan said, “and I’ll keep her supplied with painkillers. Ensure it stays tightly bound, of course.”