Eilidh stepped over to a particularly abundant patch of the vine and, knife in hand, she began to cut it. Suddenly, she let out a cry of pain, as the vine wrapped itself around her, like an octopus' tentacles. The vine squeezed tighter and the Catalyst cried out again. She fell to the ground as the vine began to drag her slowly but inexorably along the grass.
Hannah and Toli had already leapt to their feet to save her, but they quickly found they had their hands full with the tentacles that were snaking towards them. Hannah used great swings of her sword to try and defend the vulnerable magician, who was frustrated at not having learned any offensive spells yet. In the end she made do with a dagger in her hand and a Vorpal Plating spell to make her stronger. Together, they might be able to fight their way over to Eilidh, Hannah thought, but at the rate they were gaining ground, she was afraid she would be old and grey before she could really help her new friend and comrade. Eilidh retained enough self-discipline to Grant Life to Toli. Although she was well aware that a grade one magician wasn't equipped to handle this kind of situation, at the very least she might be able to use her magic to help defend herself and fix any minor injuries she sustained.
Eilidh's dagger wasn't much help, either, against the tough vine, given the awkward angle she was presented with, but she still had to keep her head and do her job as a Catalyst. Right now, it was all she could do. When the tall grass parted, it revealed the `head` of the plant. Its jaws were wide open, displaying sharp `teeth`, rather like an oversize version of the carnivorous flytrap plants she had read about. The thought of playing the part of the fly in this drama made a scream escape her lips.
At that moment, a male half-elf in brown leather burst into the open, loosing a volley of arrows into the jaws of the beast. The Kij vine possessed no voice with which to scream, but it reacted to the pain in other ways, giving Hannah the momentary lull in the fighting that she needed to take the half-elf's lead. The Knight sheathed her sword and took up the spear tied to her backpack. The instant she let it fly toward its target, Toli hit on an idea, casting a Fireflash spell on the wooden spear. It wasn't normally a combat spell, designed instead to set wood alight for a cooking fire. But since Hannah's spear was also made of wood, the hobbit decided it could be used to enhance the Knight's strike. Meanwhile, the half-elf was still shooting his arrows as he instinctively dodged and sidestepped the outreaching vines. It looked for all the world like some kind of dance. A deadly dance. The flaming spear was apparently too much for the Kij vine, as it abandoned its attack and pulled its vines around itself in an almost impenetrable defensive barrier. Eilidh found herself being helped up by the strong arm of her half-elven saviour.
“Don't waste time talking,” he warned. “Let’s leave this place. Now.” Eilidh nodded her assent and joined the others, walking hurriedly away from the scene. The half-elf didn't stray too much, but just picked up a handful of spent arrows, discarding a couple that were broken and not reusable.
A few hundred yards from their disrupted campsite, the halfelf declared, “This should be far enough now. You can all relax.”
“Thank you. I don't know who you are, but I'm grateful.” Eilidh said, breathing heavily.
“Yeah, me too,” Toli agreed.
“Indeed, thou didst demonstrate both skill and honour, good sir.”
The halfelf waved aside the thanks. “I'm a ranger; I'm just doing my job, guarding the routes into Shakaran, making sure city folk like you don't get yourselves killed out here.”
“Well I'm still grateful,” Eilidh insisted.
“Might we know thy name, noble ranger?” Hannah asked. “I am Lady Hannah Collins, Knight Initiate of Paladinia.”
“Pleased to meet you,” said the ranger, shaking the offered hand. “I am Phaer of the House of the Fountain.”
Not to be outdone, the mage offered, “Tolbrietta, Magician of the Hobbnobb Hobbit Clan.”
“Eilidh,” the Catalyst stated. Phaer raised an eyebrow, as if expecting more. “Just Eilidh,” she insisted.
“So tell me, `Just Eilidh`,” Phaer asked, “Whose bright idea was it to attack a Kij vine?”
“We weren't attacking it. We were planning to eat it.”
“You were what!”
“We were told it was edible.”
Phaer laughed, “Funny, the Kij vine thought you were edible.”
Eilidh paled. “I noticed.”
“I'm sorry, I shouldn't laugh, it's not funny. Who told you something so ridiculous anyway?” “Kismet. Our guide, of sorts. He's gone to scout ahead.”
“Self-appointed guide,” Toli pointed out.
“True,” Eilidh allowed. “But he's the only volunteer we've got and since I have no better ideas of where to go myself, I plan to keep following him.”
“Even after this?” Phaer wondered.
“Hey, if a human-eating vine is enough to frighten us, we'd better go home right now, because I suspect we'll have to face much greater dangers in our quest.”
“Tell me more about this Kismet. You speak as if you don't know the man very well.”
“If `man` is accurate,” Eilidh remarked.
“What does that mean?”
“Indeed,” Hannah put in. “He didst appear to be a man.”
Toli snorted derisively. “He also appeared to be a teapot earlier but I don't propose to accept him as such.” “The truth is,” Eilidh smoothed, “we're not sure what the deal is with Kismet, I just feel he's important to have around somehow. Besides, as I say, he's our guide and I don't have any better ideas of where to go.”
“And if he turns out to be an enemy?”
It was Lady Hannah who answered, “As the Sacred Code of Paladinius states, `Keep thy friends close at hand and thine enemies closer still`.”
“It looks to me like you could do with someone to watch your back and keep you out of trouble,” Phaer said.
“Art thou volunteering thine own services in this regard?”
Phaer smiled, “Sure, I'll tag along, why not? I've got nothing better to do.”
“Then as your first service to your new friends,” Toli suggested, “maybe you could tell us if there's anything around here that really is edible and won't attack us for our trouble.”
The ranger laughed and got up. “I'll see what I can find.”
* * * * * When Kismet returned from the direction of the site of their battle with the Kij vine, he was wearing an unusually concerned expression, but he still managed to launch into a wise-crack. He conjured up his orange silk and covered his mouth and nose with it. “Egad!” he exclaimed. “Did your mothers never teach you to eat properly? I've never seen such a mess as you made back there!” “You said the Kij vine was edible!” Eilidh shot back.
“It is,” he insisted.
“Well that's odd because according to Phaer here, it's the other way around: we were very nearly food for it!” “You mean you hacked at a live vine?” Kismet gasped. “Well of course it attacked you - I'd attack you if you tried to eat me alive! Come to that, I'm not mad about the prospect of being eaten dead, either, but that's beside the point. First, you're supposed to chop off the head while it's dormant. Then you can carve up the tentacles as much as you like until it has time to grow a new head sometime the next day.”
“You never told us that.”
Kismet shrugged, “Sorry, dear girl, but I thought everyone knew that.”
Phaer looked sceptical. “Even I've never heard that before and I've spent much of my life in the wilderness. I've always been taught to stay away from Kij vines.”
“I've been taught to stay away from bulls in full charge,” Kismet returned, “but it doesn't stop me eating beef.”
Phaer folded his arms across his chest; not liking having fun poked at him in his own element by this dandy. “There's a big difference between facing down a bull and eating a cow.” “There's also a big difference between the wilderness Kij vines and tame, docile borderlands species,” Kismet pointed out. “Anyway, never mind all that
, we have much more important things to worry about.”
“Like what?” Toli asked, while Phaer responded to Eilidh's look by silently indicating he wasn't sure whether Kismet was telling the truth or not.
“Follow me,” Kismet said, mysteriously.
* * * * * The two humans, one half-elf and one hobbit hastened up the hill after Kismet. When they reached the top of one of the hills along the way, they could see a bright, sunny glade in the distance, which was a little odd, considering the dull overcast that was still prevalent everywhere else. Still, weather patterns could be like that sometimes. Hannah had once seen a perfectly natural rainstorm on one side of a street while it was still dry on the other. That was without any magic being involved. Kismet suddenly stopped, almost causing a pileup behind him, and held up a hand. “Halt!” he commanded. “Don't go in there: that glade isn't supposed to be here!”
“What do you mean it isn't supposed to be here?” Phaer asked, still not sure he liked or trusted this strange man and his games.
“I mean it wasn't here when I came this way last,” Kismet answered.
“You mean you're lost.” “Oh no! I'm sure we're going the right way.”
“Just so I can gauge this properly, are you more certain or less than you were about the Kij vine being safe to eat?” Eilidh asked.
“That's not fair,” he objected. “Alright, O Young-and-All-Knowing One, you go in there, if you like! I am staying here!” With that, Kismet folded his arms and refused to move.
Eilidh sighed. “OK Kismet, I'm sorry about the snipe. If you say the glade is dangerous, I'm not about to take foolish risks at this point. Just so long as we reach our destination.”
“I never said it was dangerous. I said it's not supposed to be here.” He squinted up at the sky. “It's not supposed to be sunny, either.”
“So what dost thou suggest?” Hannah inquired.
“If you're asking for alternatives, of course we could always backtrack, and take another route.”
Phaer shrugged. “Since you don't seem to have a specific timetable to keep, I don't suppose it matters how long it takes us to get to the city.”
Having no logical reason to do otherwise, Eilidh nodded her agreement.
“Ah,” said Kismet, looking very pleased with himself, “so you do listen to some of my advice. Good. I'll scout ahead.” Before anyone could say a word, he disappeared.
* * * * * Eilidh was going to like this half-elf ranger, she could tell. He was living up well to her best impressions of elves. More than once, she even found herself drawn into conversation as they walked. Actually chatting to him! As soon as she realised she was doing it, however, she immediately became self-conscious and clammed up. All in all, though, carnivorous plant aside, this was turning into a rather pleasant day out. Still, there was something odd about Phaer that Eilidh had been struggling to put her finger on. When it finally hit her, she missed a step.
Almost all life on Majaos was magical to some degree. That is, they attracted magic forming a concentrated `bubble` of Life energy around themselves, protecting them from the ravages of raw magic. The greatest attraction was seen in professional mages with the Life Gift. Professional mages with only Life Calling showed a lesser attraction to magic, but still more than those with Life Calling who did not use magic professionally. People with only Life Potential did not attract enough magic to use for anything more than simple everyday tasks.
As a Catalyst, Eilidh was highly sensitive to magic. The flow of Life was a bright, colourful thing, not unlike the aurorae that lit up the far northern sky. The pattern and dominant colour depended on the magical order to which someone belonged and the area of magic in which their speciality lay. In other words, to which of the Nine Secrets they were born. The intensity depended on whether an individual possessed the Life Gift, the Life Calling or just Life Potential.
Around Phaer, there was no light, no colour. It wasn't a black light like there would be around an Enforcer; there was no light whatsoever. Phaer's body simply did not attract magic at all. In fact, he repelled it. To Eilidh’s magical senses, seeing this was rather like watching someone walking through a thunderstorm and yet remaining absolutely bone dry. In the same way, there was magic flowing all around Phaer, without `wetting` his skin. The effect was really quite disturbing.
Realising she was staring, the young woman tried to cover her rudeness but did not hide it quickly enough for Phaer's sharp eyes.
“Don't worry,” he said, “it's a common reaction; I'm used to it.” Of course he would be, Eilidh realised. Elves were a highly magical people by nature and even non-mages would, to some extent, be able to sense what Eilidh could see. She couldn't imagine what it must have been like for him growing up in elven society with no magic. His peers would view it much like a disability. Despite the fact that vast majority of elves were aligned with the Light, Eilidh recognised that some of their cultural attitudes could be laced with prejudice. Many elves would believe that Phaer's human parent, whichever side he got his human blood from, had contaminated his/her son. But the elves would never ever say such a thing - it would be totally against all the edicts of elf culture. However, humans were better at reading unspoken emotional signals than were elves, who were themselves less good at hiding them. Thus, the half-elf child would have to suffer constant sympathy and even pity. Eilidh couldn't imagine how that must have been.
The Catalyst suddenly felt very guilty and reprimanded herself for doing to Phaer what so many others did to Eilidh herself - judging on the basis of superficial things and forgetting what really matters about a person. Treating someone as a member of a stereotypical group instead of as an individual was a very bad habit. It was wrong.
“I'm sorry,” she offered, “I didn't mean to cause any offence. It's just that I'm a Catalyst; I deal in magic. Magic is my Life, if you'll pardon the pun. I've never met anybody who was magically Dead before.” She pulled a face. “I never even realised what a horrible phrase that is, until now. Please, forgive me.”
“Nothing to forgive. It's just a phrase. But I assure you, magic isn't all it's made out to be. Not to me, anyway.”
“Fair enough. I can't imagine living without magic, but then I suppose you can't imagine living with it.”
Phaer grinned. “I think we make quite a pair.”
Eilidh smiled back. “We do indeed.” A couple of minutes later, Kismet reappeared, looking quite flustered. “Quick!” he cried out, waving his arms wildly. “Back to the glade! Run! Fresh centaur tracks!” He bolted past the group, and then suddenly changed direction to skirt around the foot of the hill rather than climbing it again. Eilidh and her companions had no choice but to run after him.
“You know, Eilidh, I'm still not convinced about that Kij vine,” Phaer said, “but at least he has the good sense to stay away from centaurs!”
“Are they really as vicious as people say?” Toli wondered, keeping up surprisingly well, despite her little hobbit legs.
“Worse,” Phaer confirmed. “Indeed,” Lady Hannah agreed. “'Tis no dishonour to say that I should not like to have to face more than one such beast, even were I on horseback. The Sacred Code of Paladinius states that one Knight on horseback is worth ten afoot, but a single centauris worth twenty.”
“No offence, Lady,” Phaer said, “but I suspect your Code is talking about experienced Knight Warriors, maybe an Officer, not just an Initiate like yourself.”
“Thy words are true, but nevertheless I shall do all in my power to protect thee should an attack come.”
“Well, hopefully it won't come to that,” Eilidh said, ending the discussion. No point inventing battles that didn't yet exist and might never happen.
Chapter 3
The group entered the glade, though it took little short of brute force to get Kismet to cross its boundary. Eventually they succeeded, after hearing the sound of hooves in the distance, making everyone think `centaurs` and run for their lives.
After they had been running f
or some time, they stopped to catch their breath. “I don't suppose you'd be interested in a particularly nutritious plant I've spotted, would you?” Kismet offered. Then seeing all the scowls, he cried, “Egad! Didn't your mothers ever tell you? If the wind changes your faces will stick in those ghastly expressions!” He then casually wandered off and no-one had the energy to stop him or the inclination to care.
While they were resting, a black raven flew down out of the cloudless blue sky to join them, squawking away. After making a few futile attempts to `shoo` the noisy bird away, they started throwing a few crumbs at it, which it gobbled up, greedily.
Silently, Eilidh reflected on how the glade seemed to be considerably larger than it had appeared to be when Kismet first showed it to them and it certainly looked out of place. The entire landscape of the borderlands was a series of gently rolling hills and valleys with the edge of the city growing ever larger in the distance. There was nothing particularly spectacular or breathtaking about the scenery, or challenging about the walk. It was just mildly, pleasantly aerobic and the local prevailing weather was perpetually warm, damp and misty. That was Shakaran's Eastern Borderlands, everywhere except right here in the glade. Here the land was flat - unnaturally flat - as if some great giant of a creature had decided to cut out a section of Shakaran with an immense sword or stamp on it with his boot. In addition, the weather was crisply dry, cloudlessly sunny and considerably hotter. It had to be magic.
It was a neat bit of work; Eilidh was impressed. She could not tell whether it was real or illusion. It probably didn't matter much, she decided; since none of them had any illusion-countering magic, they would be forced to treat any threat as real. Besides, despite Kismet's reaction, there was so far nothing threatening about the glade, unless one considered a raven threatening.
Chosen (Majaos Book 1) Page 4
