A Bitter Brew

by Greg Curtis

  Out of morbid curiosity Hendrick, pulled away from the street and viewed the city from above. Then he sped time up so that he could watch the end. Because though it was truly horrible, he needed to understand what had happened.

  What became abundantly clear as the war finally began was that the magic of these seven wizards had been vast. And the attacks which they launched against one another were more terrible than he would have believed possible. At the end, none of them seemed to have cared about anything other than completely destroying the others.

  They had unleashed everything. Spells he'd never heard of. Magical shapes he'd never seen. And all of them had only two things in common; they were deadly and they were massive.

  The ground opened up and closed again. Volcanoes tore their way free from the ground and glaciers fell from the sky. Tornadoes chased fireballs across the land, and massive creatures emerged unscathed from them. Plagues sprang up out of nowhere, and people literally rotted where they stood. And even though the Mithril wizard had dimensional shields to defend himself, they weren't enough. There was no defence. The only thing he could have done was run. The hatred and fury burning through him however, wouldn't let him.

  So he carried on battling as did the others, destroying the world as they did so. It burned and froze, was covered with deadly gasses and tore itself into new and impossible shapes. Mountains crumbled and seas swept in to cover everything, before they turned to steam. Hendrick watched the world die.

  In the end the only thing that saved the world, was the death of the wizards. It came more quickly than Hendrick had guessed, but far more slowly than it needed to. One moment the Mithril giant was lying on the ground, screaming in pain, his body covered in boils or blisters, and the next he wasn't. Instead there was a burst of light, so bright that Hendrick had to close his eyes. and then when he opened them again there was nothing. No wizard, no city, no land. Just a ring of dust expanding outwards so fast that in the blink of an eye it was at the horizon, while what was left behind was only dust and a crater some several leagues across.

  After that the light went away. All of it. And the land was left in darkness. For fifty leagues in every direction as best he could tell, there was nothing. But it wasn't magic. It was the result of magic. He discovered that when he lifted his view up to the sky so that he could peer down on the world, only to see it as a globe in the darkness. Looking down from above he could see that the darkness was actually a cloud of dust. Actually, it was seven clouds of dust. Dust so thick that it blocked out all the light from the sun, the moon and the stars. Nothing was making it through to the land below.

  It took weeks and weeks for the dust to settle, and during that time it was blown by the wind to travel across the world. And when it passed, it left only death in its wake.

  Hendrick rushed through that time, not wanting to dwell on the end of the world, but to understand what had happened. And what he mostly understood was that Malthas was gone. Here and there where the pockets of land had escaped the dust there was life. Handfuls of people and with them their animals and crops. But none were unscathed.

  Those who were close enough left for the temples and the safety of life in other realms. Those who survived in a pocket surrounded by the dust stayed where they were and prayed.

  Strangest of all though, was the rain. It wasn't water. Water didn't sparkle like it. But this sparkled as it fell. It shimmered pale green and silver, white and yellow, brilliant blue and dark grey, and occasionally fiery bronze. This he knew was the remains of the seven wizards, falling slowly back to the ground and being blown around by the wind. These were the fragments of the magic metals, settling to the ground.

  Hendrick let the spell go then. There was no point in keeping it. He had seen the end, and he didn't want to see anymore. And as for the woman, while he could return to the point at which she'd vanished, he couldn't follow her through the portal. That meant the only way he could find her again was to actually search all the worlds, because he had no idea where the portal led to. Or what in truth, she actually looked like, His search was at an end. But even if he wasn't satisfied with what he'd found, he had answered the questions he'd set out to answer. Though in turn he’d found a few new unanswerable questions.

  And at the very top of that list of unanswerable questions he decided as he put the kettle back on the fire to brew himself a new cup of tea, was why someone would deliberately start a war that would destroy a world? Because even if he had no actual proof and it was surely madness, he was convinced that that was exactly what she'd done.

  Which meant that the Mythagan – if they truly believed she was still alive – were searching for a destroyer of worlds. And the only thing he could be sure of, was that if she did still live, he didn't want her to return and destroy this world all over again.

  Chapter Forty Three

  It was a strange thing being home again. Marnie had always intended to return to Combury. But somehow it hadn't happened and she'd settled for just sending a few messages. After Lady Marda had visited however, she'd felt the need to return and see her family. Even though she knew the threat had been dealt with and the assassins had fled the town. Their people had reported that. But still. Besides, it was only a few days ride.

  She'd brought a small gold nugget with her which should make their lives a little easier. A gift from Hendrick. He was a useful man to know sometimes. And for all his failings, he was a generous man too.

  But if it was only a few days in the saddle from Burbage, it was a lifetime in her heart. She had come so far in the last few months. Grown as a woman. She’d fought in a war. Become a leader. And had learned so much about the world. And yet in just the simple act of riding into town she felt herself shrinking back into the girl she had been. The afflicted girl who hid from the world. It took a lot of strength to keep her head held high and pretend even to herself that she wasn’t still that frightened girl. But Marnie had earned her courage. She was not going to cower again.

  As she rode down the main street of the small town, she saw many people she knew. Most of them she didn’t like. A few she truly hated. She had grown up with these people. She knew them well enough to understand the appalling monsters that many of them were. As the priests of Tarius would say, it wasn't what a man could do that made him a monster. It was what he would do. And many of the people in this town had done some very bad things to her.

  It wasn't just name calling and stone throwing. They'd moved on from that even as children. She'd had horse shite thrown over her and been threatened with knives and clubs. She’d even had her head shaved against her will. Once they'd dug a hole and started burying her alive. She’d only been saved by her parents arriving just in time. There were simply no words to describe the horror of that. Or the hatred that had burned in her heart. It was worse that the law meant she couldn't fight back. Because if she used her magic against them, they'd have had her in gaol and hung by morning. They weren't children. They were monsters!

  Riding through the town she spotted a few of the little bastards who had destroyed her life. Except they weren't so little anymore. One of them – Tully – stared at her from his stoop in front of the alehouse he ran. He had taken over the running of the Golden Fox after his father had become ill. He looked surprised to see her. Perhaps it was because she was well dressed and riding an expensive roan? In any event he was careful to say nothing. It made a change from when they had been children in school and he had named her as a witch.

  How she'd hated him then! It wasn't her fault that her markings were hidden. She hadn't tried to hide them. Still, he had done so and from that moment on her life had been ruined. It had already been bad. Being afflicted was hard enough to live with. But hiding your affliction was worse. It was considered a crime. Some claimed that hiding it proved you were in league with the Goat Footed God.

  It would be so easy to strike him down with arthritis she thought. But Tyrollan would have been unhappy when he found out – and he always found out
– and demand she fix it. She figured the priests might be upset about it too. So she ignored him and rode on.

  Damar wasn't so restrained as he came stumbling out of the alehouse and pointed his finger at her. But then he was drunk. The big oaf was always drunk. His entire life since he had turned fourteen and picked up his first pitcher of ale, had been spent breathing Vitanna's mist and getting into fights.

  “You –!” He tried to yell something at her, but forgot what he was going to say as he suddenly fell down in the dirt that passed for a street and started cursing it. It wasn't the first time he'd done that.

  Marnie ignored him as well. She remembered him as a bully and a thug, but not someone worth spending any time on. On the other hand, when she'd been eight or nine and he'd been hurling rocks at her and threatening to pull her arms and legs off she would have loved to return the favour. Now she had the spells to do far worse things to him. Tyrollan was right, she thought. Power was a corrupting influence. She had to keep away from its temptation.

  Still she wondered as she rode, how many more annoying people would she have to deal with? How many more stares would she have to ignore? Now that the word had gone out from the King that the afflicted were no longer to be called that or prevented from entering Council Chambers and that they could sell at least some of their services, things had improved. But only a little. It would be a lifetime before people like her were accepted. For now they had a little tolerance. The people relied on her kind while there was a war happening. After that she feared that things would return to how they had been before. People didn't change overnight. If you were lucky their children simply grew up better than them.

  Suddenly people in the streets started pointing at something in the air behind her and Marnie put aside her despairing thoughts. She turned hurriedly in her saddle, fearing that one of the beast's servants had come for her. She really wished she had a spell that could destroy one of them. But though she now had a lot more spells, and her arm was pale green from fingertip to shoulder, she had yet to acquire one useful warspell. Fortunately she recognised who they were pointing at and her fear and anger dissolved.

  It was Indle – flying her way – on a horse – with wings!

  “Oh dung!” Marnie had to resist shaking her head in disbelief, as she did most days. Now they not only had people from other worlds bothering them but flying horses too! The world was growing ever stranger.

  She pulled up her horse and waited calmly as Indle brought his flying horse down to alight on the road behind her, before trotting over to her. She did have to admit that it was a beautiful animal and a graceful flyer. It was pretty on the ground too.

  “Master Indle.” She nodded politely to him, idly wondering how he flew in that ridiculous attire without the wind catching everything and blowing it in his face. She also noticed the complex saddle strap arrangement needed to ride a horse with wings and the way he was sitting so far forward on the steed just so he could get his legs forward over the wings.

  “Miss Holdwright, I'm glad I finally found you.”

  “Finally found me?” He'd been looking for her? Surely someone would have told him where she was heading?

  “I'm not familiar with your world and I didn't know exactly where Combury was. This is about the fifth town I've landed in.”

  “And now you've found me.” And no doubt he was about to make her life more difficult she thought. Which was why she avoided discussing his choice of transport. Best that he get straight to the point.

  “Yes. I wanted to talk to you about these baseless allegations your friend has made against us.”

  “Friend?”

  “Prince Hendrick Mountforth.”

  “Ahh!” Understanding finally arrived. “You mean the claims Hendrick made. About your actually being the little people our bards keep singing about? And how you fled our world when the war began? And that you hid this fact from us?” She arched an eyebrow at him.

  Of course that was what he meant! It was just fortunate that after speaking with Hendrick, Tyrollan had had Tara bring a message to her, or she wouldn't have known what he was talking about. As it was she hadn't believed them when Tara had told her. And Indle's arrival only made the claims seem slightly more plausible. Not that she would tell him that.

  “Those would be the ones,” he agreed.

  “Baseless? So you deny that your ancestors were here in Styrion – Malthas – and fled when these ancient giant wizards started killing one another?” Of course even as she said it she knew how ridiculous it sounded. How could you possibly have wizards made of magic metals, standing fifty or a hundred feet tall? That was madness! Maybe Hendrick really had been drinking too much of his ale these days as his own mother had suggested.

  “That? No. Of course not.” He sounded surprised. “There are many worlds and once the peoples of them all travelled freely between them. Naturally there were some of our ancestors here when the war began.”

  That part was true? Marnie was shocked though she did her best not to show it. But was he also saying that these ancient wizards who had gone to war had been giants made of the seven magic metals? Marnie wanted to ask, but she didn't dare. He might admit that too and then she'd have to accept the rest of Hendrick's wild story.

  “So then it's the other matter? This woman you were searching for – Erohilm. You don't believe he found her?”

  “Found? Maybe! But if he did he saw her in the past. What upsets us are these things he's saying about her! These falsehoods! They must be stopped!”

  That was what was bothering him? The actions of some long dead ancestor? Marnie was surprised. It seemed like such a small thing compared with everything else. And yet she knew now why he had come. He thought she might have some influence with Hendrick and hoped that she might be able to stop him saying or doing something. As if anyone had ever had such control over Hendrick!

  “But what if they're not falsehoods?” She stared back evenly, pointing out the uncomfortable possibilities he clearly didn't want to consider. “Hendrick is not a liar for all his many faults.”

  “Yes, but I doubt he is in his right mind! All the spells he has absorbed have addled his brain. He even claims to have the memories of this ancient wizard!”

  “But I understand you had already accepted that as true. You tried to find this woman using Hendrick’s memories of the ancient wizard. Now that he has found her and you don’t like what he has seen, you want to claim that he doesn't have any such memories?” She knew she was right when she watched him squirm in his saddle, struggling to find an answer he could live with. It suggested that the woman was somehow important either to him or to his people.

  “Who is this woman exactly? That you can't even listen to the thought that she might somehow be involved in starting this ancient war?”

  “She is not a base creature who would do as Hendrick claims!” Indle snapped at her. “That is all that matters!”

  It was also all Marnie was going to learn from him. Not just because his people were naturally secretive about so many things. But also because this seemed to cause him pain. It was best, she thought, not to press him on the matter.

  “As you say. In any case, it doesn't matter. Hendrick has this spell. He can show you exactly what he saw. All you have to do is ask.” And that she guessed, was the one thing he didn't want to do. Because deep down in his soul, so deep that Indle didn't even want to admit it existed, lay the fear that Hendrick might be right.

  “In fact I think you should do that. Bring your people – your scholars and your sages – to the Guild in a week, and we'll have Hendrick cast the spell and show you what he saw. That way you can decide for yourselves whether he's telling the truth or not.” She smiled, perhaps a little cruelly. But she had reason, she thought.

  “Oh and do bring some more of those rocks of yours. They are just perfect as a base for laying concrete on!”

  Indle's only response was a scowl and a sound that might have been him clearing his throat. She gu
essed he wasn't pleased. Then without so much as a farewell, Indle kicked his winged horse in the sides and they cantered forward before leaping into the air. That was discourteous she thought.

  On the other hand, she had to admit that it was a spectacular sight as the horse unfurled its huge wings and took flight. Others she suspected thought much the same thing, as she looked across to see most of the townsfolk staring in awe at the sky.

  And while they were staring at the sky they weren't staring at her. So with that she kneed her own horse, and they set off to her family's small holding.

  But as she rode on through the town it occurred to her that she hadn't got an answer from the Mythagan. She didn't know if he and his people would attend the Guild to see Hendrick's spell or not. But if they did then Hendrick was going to have to be somewhat restrained with his words. And she wasn't sure that he even knew how to be that. He seemed to have a gift for upsetting people. For upsetting her anyway.