by Guy Antibes
“I think that is enough. How do you feel? Sometimes making a lot of wards can drain a person,” Pilkis said, smiling, erupting in a giggle from time to time.
“Well enough,” Sam said. “I can say that three didn’t tax me that I am aware of.”
They walked back to the hospital conference room they had used before their field trip, talking about all kinds of nefarious purposes Sam could put to the stench ward. It would be an effective tool to discourage incorrigible boys at school, most of them agreed.
Sam let them be creative. His mind was on other kinds of disruptions that he would rather keep to himself.
Pilkis worked Sam for the rest of the day, making swords, sandals, and even creating works of art from samples Pilkis had brought. They found that Sam could create pollen objects about five paces from his body, which Pilkis said was very exceptional. Most pollen magicians had a range of three or four feet. Sam was nearly ashamed at how easy it was, but by the end, he was feeling fatigued.
“One last demonstration,” Sam said. He created a sheet of pollen paper and let it drift to his hand and watched their faces as it crumpled up in Sam’s palm. “Just to prove to you that I am still pollen averse.”
Plantian smiled. “Actually, I think it is a strength, don’t you?”
Pilkis put his hand to his chin and cogitated for a bit. “I don’t know if I agree, but Sam remains unique. Are you still sure you want to leave Alloren?”
Sam nodded. “I can’t be a beacon attracting assassins. Four people already lost their lives for the simple reason they knew Plantian and me.”
“We are fortunate it wasn’t six,” Plantian said.
~
Sam bought a wagon and two horses with saddles. If someone chased them, they wouldn’t get far in a rolling conveyance, he pointed out. Sam would have preferred riding, but Plantian didn’t think his constitution could handle it for the length of time it took to travel to the other end of Zogaz.
They made sure their spice bags were topped up. Sam secured his degree certificate, not really believing it was genuine, but it looked official, in his belongings. Hilsa congratulated him as she and Hadis, Sinna and Moranna turned out early in the morning to see them off.
They left Alloren with the most current map in the town. Hadis Torkin had reviewed four or five routes for them to use. Sam thought the unpredictability of their destination would work to be part of their defense, even though it would make their trip much longer.
They also purchased bows and two hundred arrows. Plantian had said he used to hunt with a bow and arrow in his youth and flinging a warded arrow would be better than swinging a sword.
Sam’s sole experience with the weapon was when he had traveled with Harrison Dimple, and even then he had only learned to string a bow and had had little experience shooting.
“We will have to practice with the bows and arrows,” Sam said. “I’ve hardly shot one before.”
Plantian laughed. “I don’t even know if I can string a bow anymore. That is the hardest part.”
“I know how to do that,” Sam said.
Plantian pulled the wagon off the road into a little clearing. “Let’s practice,” he said.
Sam pulled the bows out and a handful of arrows. He strung the bows with an ease he couldn’t accomplish as a fourteen-year-old in the mountains of Toraltia. He handed one to Plantian and took an arrow.
Sam sighted along the shaft as he pulled the string back and let the arrow fly. It bounced against the string and ended up cartwheeling in the air to land a few paces from his feet.
Plantian laughed. “We are a fine pair. I can’t string a bow, and you can’t shoot.”
“I strung your bow. What can you do?”
Plantian grabbed an arrow and drew the string, letting the arrow fly. It hit the sapling with little force and bounced back.
“Not bad for an old man.”
Sam put his hands on his hips. “It is a good thing you don’t have to penetrate anything with a ward,” he said.
Plantian chuckled. “My thoughts, exactly. Shall I use up an arrow with a ward?”
Sam bowed to Plantian. “Please do.”
Plantian took another arrow. He closed his eyes and opened them. Sam could see the sheen of the ward with his spectacles on. Plunk made the same fluid motion. The arrow seemed to float rather than speed through the air, but when it hit the tree, the explosion toppled the same sapling.
“Something an old man with a ward can do. I taught Banna how to do this when I was younger and could actually pierce the trunk with an arrow. Now let us work on a few of the basics.”
~
With each stop, Plantian and Sam practiced. Plantian’s arm picked up some strength as he used muscles he hadn’t for some time, and Sam finally was able to hit something about three times out of five.
By the time they reached the first village on the map, it was three days of travel, and Sam was ready for a real bed. Plantian slept soundly on a pollen mattress. The ones that Sam made seemed to degrade enough before dawn, so part of him was touching the ground when morning arrived.
“My grandson and I would like a room for the night,” Plantian said.
The woman who ran the inn spoke back in Zogazin.
“We have spent much time on the border with Vaarek,” Sam said in broken Zogazin. “We are happy to provide you with something to laugh at,” Sam said.
“Go on,” the woman prompted.
Sam smiled. “We can entertain you if you let us stay the night,” Sam said, hoping he had said the right words.
“You are entertaining enough,” the woman said in Polistian, “but I’ll knock down some of your rate if you can make my common room laugh. You’ll be laughed at for trying anyway.”
Sam accepted.
“Entertain?” Plantian said. “How are we going to do that?”
“With pollen magic. Just follow my lead,” Sam said. “Pilkis ran me through enough tricks evaluating me that I can use some of those. I’d rather be open about our traveling as a distraction. If Kreb’s assassins are looking for two men on the run, they won’t pay attention to two itinerant entertainers, will they?”
Plantian groaned. “We will try it, tonight. If it doesn’t work out, we will act as Kreb expects.”
Sam and Plantian stood in front of a few musicians who had been stopped by the tavern keeper.
“We have a couple of northerners to entertain us.”
The men and women in the audience laughed and clapped.
Sam was about to create a pollen paper with the tavern keeper’s face when he realized only Plantian wore a pair of his spectacles and could see Sam’s work. Now he faced the villagers, without anyone able to see his creations.
He stood in front of the audience, thinking furiously. Plantian poked Sam in the side. “What am I supposed to do?” he said.
“Look pretty,” Sam said a little louder than he should have, but enough people heard the exchange and laughed. Sam saw a man smoking a pipe with one foot on a box filled with wood amidst empty ones, and that gave Sam an idea.
He made a brick as he took off his spectacles and put them on Plantian.
“Step onto thin air,” he said to Plantian, “and look pretty.”
A few more patrons laughed. Plantian stepped on the brick. Sam made more, and eventually, Plantian stood three feet in the air. He cavorted to the hoots of the crowd before he stepped down to general applause.
“We are a one-trick troupe. I hope you enjoyed looking upon the beautiful face of my lovely assistant Moranna,” Sam said using the name of his escort in Alloren.
The patrons laughed again. Sam grabbed the bricks and put them in one of the empty boxes and left the platform. The bricks were heavier than Sam thought, and his exertions with the weight made the onlookers think Sam was acting out. He went out the back door and found a place to dump the bricks. He had no idea how long they would last.
He walked back inside the room and found Plantian putting spices into
a bowl of stew. “This is no better than boiled water,” he said to Sam.
Sam joined him.
“We can’t do that again, you know,” Plantian said. “It is too flashy of a demonstration. Any pollen magician would suspect another at work. Maybe you should try your hand at masks.”
“And how long would one last on my face, even if it was visible?” Sam said. “I’m beginning to wonder that invisible pollen is more of a curse than a blessing from Havetta.”
“Havetta?”
“The principal Toraltian goddess,” Sam said.
“I can always become a woman,” Plantian said. “All I have to do is procure clothes and a wig. It will be better than singing for our supper, even if I could sing.”
Sam smiled. “You know how to make masks?”
“No, but I can learn.”
Sam looked at Plantian and thought back to the pictures that Banna had used as models. “I think I remember Antina Mulch’s face well enough to make a mask for you.”
“Antina? Ah, yes, Antina Mulch. She was a good-looking woman.”
“And is now as beautiful as you are handsome,” Sam said.
“Spoken like a Zogazin.”
Sam smiled. “I hope so, just not as much.”
“Agreed, but there is one problem,” Plantian said. “No one can see your pollen unless they wear your spectacles.”
Sam laughed. “Ironic. I receive the ability to create pollen, but no one can see it. At least I can make a mask that you can copy. My life has been and will continue to be one of working around obstacles.”
Once in their room, Sam thought of how Banna made hers, and then a mask, hopefully with Antina’s face, dropped into his hands. Pollen-making was just that easy for him.
“A magician for sure,” Plantian said. “Maybe you wouldn’t have been one without the lightning strike, but you are a magician now.”
Sam pressed it to his face. The mask reminded Sam of the clinging pollen film Pilkis, Plantian, and Banna had made to test his resistance to pollen. “Can you see how this is made? It has to be clingy,” Sam said.
“I knew clingy well. We were best friends in compulsory school,” Plantian said. “A little Zogazin humor tossed back at you.”
“A fine example,” Sam said. “You can picture Antina?” Sam looked in the mirror. The face that looked back was similar to Antina, but maybe not perfect. They weren’t after perfect, anyway. “Memorize it before it starts to degrade.”
“Got it,” Plantian said.
Sam pulled the mask from his face. Some parts had already started to get perilously thin. He balled it up and held it in his hands, as flecks of pollen began to drop.
They spent another half-hour getting Plantian to make something good enough to pass for human. Sam guessed he had much more experience with masks than Plantian.
“We will get some clothes for you in the morning,” Sam said.
Chapter Twenty-Four
~
“A nother mask, another town,” Plantian said. “Women’s clothes aren’t particularly comfortable to wear, and this mask is worse. I can guess what kind of unpleasantness women have to endure with pollen patches stretching and pulling on their faces.”
“Comfort isn’t the prime objective,” Sam said.
Plantian chuckled. “I suppose not. We are going to have to decide where to go from here.”
“You said you know where Banna is?”
“Roughly. She is on the other side of the border with Ristaria.”
Sam thought for a moment. “Will the assassins be looking for us there?”
“More for her than for us,” Plantian said. “That is why she took Mito Nakara. She needed someone to look behind her as you did with me on the streets of Alloren.”
“It is a dangerous time,” Sam said, more to himself than to the professor. “And Mito is in Hizor.”
Plantian shook his head. “No, he isn’t. When Banna traveled to meet me in Alloren, Mito left Renatee Dinik behind and took one of the sowers.”
“Sowers,” Sam said derisively. “I think they are ward sprayers. I think that is what they always were.”
Plantian nodded. “You may be right, but both sides use wards, your two warder girlfriends, for example. They will be somewhere laying down wards, and that is more dangerous.”
“As long as a ward doesn’t explode when being flung,” Sam said. As soon as he mentioned it, he pictured two or three trigger layers that could protect the machine operator. “War isn’t a pleasant business.”
“No, and Viktar Kreb makes it less pleasant,” Plantian said.
~
Sam and Plantian rolled into the next village. The few people on the streets scurried on their way, staying outside as little a possible. Sam pursed his lips, wondering if they should even enter the place.
“This isn’t right. We are still in Zogaz,” he said to Plantian. “People don’t rush around like this.”
Sam looked for a place to turn around, but four horsemen blocked their way. “Too late. I think the Vaarekians have plunged into Zogaz.” Plantian took out their map and saw how close they were to the southwestern edge of Vaarek. A road ran from Vaarek south right through the village.
“I think it is time to test our archery skills,” Plantian said. “I’ll go first. You drive, I’ll sit in the wagon, or I’ll fall off trying to shoot backward in this seat.”
Sam made sure Plantian was sitting when he urged the horses to move faster. The horsemen kept a steady pace, pushing them out of town. Sam was fine with that, except he didn’t know what was on the other side.
Plantian grabbed Sam’s bow and hastily made a pollen quiver for the arrows where he was sitting. “I am ready.”
“Let’s hope you just have to stay ready,” Sam said as he kept his eyes open on the side streets but didn’t see anything other than the four horsemen at their rear.
He was tempted to take a side street, but since he didn’t know the village, any side street could dump them in a field where the wagon could get stuck. Sam noticed movement up ahead, and four more horsemen moved to block their path. Sam stopped the wagon.
“It’s time, Plantian,” Sam said. “Get some armor on you.”
Sam did the same, making a corrugated pollen vest and helmet that Plantian had taught him to make with very dense pollen. It felt heavy when it dropped on his shoulders, but Plantian’s design allowed them to use the bows without impediment.
Sam felt conspicuous in his white armor, but he would be the only one to see it. He stopped the wagon for a moment and grabbed the bow. He put a potent ward on the arrow and let it fly. It didn’t matter exactly where the arrow went, so Sam wasn’t disappointed to see it land between the two horsemen on the right.
The explosion created a panic among the riders. Another smaller explosion behind Sam echoed the first. Sam flailed the reins and the horses took off and rolled right past the disturbance ahead. Two horsemen were on the ground, and the others were still trying to control their mounts.
Sam heard another explosion behind him, but he didn’t look back. He continued on through the village and out the other side. A force of soldiers was just stirring from their camp like a column of angry hornets, when Sam passed their camp about a hundred paces from the road.
Sam paused just long enough to shoot an arrow into their midst. Plantian’s arrow didn’t quite make it to the camp, but it still fell among running foot soldiers. The horses continued to gallop along the road, putting distance between them and their pursuers.
“Stop for a moment,” Plantian said. He tossed small branches that they had collected to test wards onto the road at random places. “This might slow them up.” He stretched the string, and before they went too far, Plantian shot the arrow into the air. It arced down just as their pursuers were among the warded branches and exploded. A string of booms followed the first. Sam took a quick look back at the enemy in total disarray behind them.
They slowed down a little to preserve their horses’
strength, but the soldiers weren’t in sight. Sam decided to continue as far as he could.
A few hours later, they stopped at a roadside inn. Sam walked in to find a single man left to run the place.
“Have the soldiers gotten this far?” Sam asked.
“No, but my wife took my children and my staff south to her mother’s house ten miles away. Word will reach Hizor tomorrow or the next. I am still hiding the valuables and will be heading west to Olanen near the Trakatan border. I can’t let you spend the night, because I will be gone within the hour.”
“We just rode through the village a few hours to the east. It had a few hundred soldiers encamped on the western side.”
The innkeeper looked astonished. “You rode through there? Didn’t they stop you?”
Plantian joined Sam. “We have our ways to discourage them, but I’m not so confident they will stay discouraged.”
The innkeeper laughed. “If you got through, then I wouldn’t mind a little company. My horses aren’t the fastest,” he said.
“And ours are tired,” Sam said. “We can help you if we can buy some water and feed.”
~
Sam, Plantian, and Greto, the innkeeper, got through the night and into the morning before soldiers could be seen a mile or two behind them. They stopped. Greto said his pollen talents did not involve wards, so he watched the wagons and recorded on the map where the wards were placed, while Sam and Plantian put wards out on the road and on the verge, so when the soldiers went around the wards, they would face more in the grass.
Sam didn’t know how much the wards would stall their pursuers, but if enough of them were disabled from the wards, they might not think it worth it to follow.
They continued on until Sam thought he heard some sounds behind them. He turned quickly and saw pillars of smoke rising above the gentle hills.
“Time to make more wards,” Sam said.
They planted another set after an additional hour of travel. Greto looked forward.
