From Blood and Magic

by Dave Skinner

  “That smells good,” Brayson croaked. He realized his mouth was dry and looked around for a waterskin. The movement caused his head to explode with pain. He groaned.

  “He’s awake. He’s awake!” He heard Flitter’s high-pitched voice exclaim. “Oh, My Love, I was so worried about you,” she said as she appeared beside his head.

  There was something strange about her words. It took him a few moments to figure out what it was.

  “Your love?” he asked.

  “Flitter has decided that you are her heartmate,” Nails told him as he squatted down. “Take it slowly, Brayson. You received a nasty bump on your head. You’ve been unconscious for almost three whole days. I have some water.”

  He was holding a small bark bowl cupped in his hand. Brayson tried to sit up but failed.

  “Help me up,” he said.

  Nails handed the bowl to Flitter who wrapped her arms around it and held it pressed to her body. Brayson noticed a big smile on her face as Nails grabbed him under the arms and eased him into a seated position with his back against a log. Flitter returned the bowl to Nails, and he held it to Brayson’s lips. He felt the water slip down his throat and into his body. It was wonderful.

  “What happened?” he asked as he began to feel better.

  “You fell overboard and bumped your head,” Nails explained.

  “Nails jumped in and saved you,” Flitter added. “He got you into the boat, but then the river took him. You and I were carried away, but the boat broke up and we were dumped into the river. We washed up here. I kept you safe, My Love, until Nails found us again.”

  “That is the second time you have called me that,” Brayson said.

  “You are my lovlan,” Flitter told him. “I felt it the first moment I saw you.”

  Brayson knew what a lovlan was. It was a fey term for a connection so strong that nothing could break it apart. The fey wrote songs about it. But he had always thought it was two-sided, something felt by both parties. He was about to tell Flitter that he didn’t feel that way, but the smile of joy on her face stopped him. He looked at Nails, who also had a smile on his face. His was obviously from amusement, not joy.

  “The food smells good,” Brayson said.

  “It is three ravens,” Nails told him.

  “Raven?” Brayson said. “I have never eaten raven.”

  “They were trying to pluck your eyes out, so Flitter killed them,” Nails said.

  “Nails helped with the last one,” Flitter added.

  “The food is ready,” Nails said as he stood and returned to the fire.

  He pulled some pieces of meat from the carcasses, filling the small bowl for Flitter and placing it by her before setting the rest on some flat stones beside Brayson.

  “It could use salt,” Brayson said after tasting his.

  “Salt’s gone,” Nails said, “along with the boat, and all our possessions except for what was on our bodies. I made a spear for fishing. We have our knives, and Flitter has her sword. We’ll make do.”

  They left the next day. The first few days of travel saw Brayson dragging himself along, but after a seven-day he was back to himself. Along the way, they saw wagons on the other side of the river but were unable to find a way across. It seemed they had landed on the unpopulated side. Food was plentiful, both Nails and Brayson had their slings and spears. Brayson thought about making a bow and arrows, but the necessity was not there. He and Flitter were good at finding roots and plants to fill out their meals, and Nails was turning into an able fisherman and hunter. Travelling was pleasant, and Brayson enjoyed being with both of his companions. Flitter rode on Brayson’s shoulder most of the time, but she also rode on Nails. At first, he had looked for a time to tell Flitter that he did not feel the heartmate attachment she professed was between them. He told himself he would do it when her wings were better and she could fly again. By the time that happened, he was used to having her around. He doubted he felt a heartmate attraction but saying so would hurt her. He liked her enough that he would not do that. They were travelling south, so the passing of fall was barely noticeable except for the colours of the trees. Even that was gone by the time they reached Riverrun South. On their last day of travel, they attracted a water taxi that took them across the river to the city proper.

  Riverrun South was an old city with a waterfront like nothing Brayson had ever seen. The activity and the number of wharves made Upper and Lower Thesia look like rural outposts, although the lack of large sailing ships had Nails commenting almost right away.

  “I expected to see large ships here,” he said. “This is a major port, isn’t it?”

  “It is where the majority of traffic between the two lakes happens,” Brayson said, “but most of the shipping is on the Trade River. The Trade joins the Lazy River and another river I forget the name of. Everything flows into South Lake from here. Some of the pir...sailors I have known told me that most goods are transported from here to Marshtown on small marshmen boats or on large ships piloted by marshmen. Most large ships wait at Marshtown for goods to take farther. You need a marshman pilot to get a ship through the marshes of the delta.”

  “I thought we were going to Delta?” Nails said.

  “We are. Why do you ask?”

  “You just said, ‘the marshes of the delta,’” Nails reminded him.

  “Oh, I see your problem. The end of the Lazy River is a delta, which is the name of the swampy area at the end of a river that spreads out like this. Delta, where we are going, is the home of the Wizard’s Council. It is located in the marshes of the Lazy River delta.”

  “Are we going to visit wizards?” Flitter asked.

  “Yes,” Brayson told her. “We are going to visit the Master of the Wizard’s Council. His name is Andoo Toran. He was uncle to Nails’ mother. Nails must learn to control his magic.”

  “What is your business in the city?” the guard at the gate asked.

  They had approached the gate while Brayson was talking. It was a massive, metal-reinforced, wooden structure hung on huge metal hinges attached to stone pillars. High stone walls that were at least four times taller than Nails spread out to both sides.

  “We are looking for an inn for a few days while we make arrangements to get to Delta,” Brayson told the man. “Can you suggest a reasonably priced, clean inn?” He reached into his pouch and pulled a silver coin which he flipped in the air. It was common knowledge that gate guards often made extra money by promoting inns and taverns to travelers. The travelers would tip them and the establishments paid them a stipend.

  “I recommend the Sandy Bottom Inn,” the guard said. “Straight up this road and left at the fourth cross-street.”

  Brayson flipped the coin to the man who caught it expertly.

  “This place is oppressive,” Flitter said as they turned onto the fourth cross-street.

  “I think it’s impressive,” Nails said. “I’ve never seen so many stone buildings.”

  “I prefer something lighter,” Flitter commented. “And people are staring at us.”

  “I think they are staring at you and me,” Brayson told her. “I detect envy.”

  “What envy?” she asked. “All of them are better dressed than you are.”

  “But they don’t have a beautiful woman riding on their shoulder.”

  “Oh, Brayson, stop. You are going to make me blush,” she said with a titter and stroked his neck which told him she liked what he had said.

  The Sandy Bottom Inn was another stone structure with balconies at the front which overlooked the street. A large common room on the ground floor transitioned into a sand-filled outdoor area which increased the common room’s capacity two-fold. They arranged their room and then went in search of items they needed. Brayson and Nails had a good supply of coins, both silver and gold, Amadella had given them money, and they still had quite a bit from their time as pirates. They replaced the swords, cloaks, and packs they had lost in the ri
ver and each bought two new shirts, sturdy leather pants and jerkins. Brayson offered to buy cloth for Flitter, but she declined his offer.

  “I prefer to trade with leprechauns for my clothes,” she told him. “They are better craftsmen, and their cloth is much nicer. Like the blankets from your mother. It is too bad you lost them in the river.”

  It was late when they finished their shopping. They returned to the inn, stored their possessions in their room and went downstairs for a meal in the common area.

  “We have catfish steaks with all the trimmings,” the barmaid told them when she arrived at their table. “We also have a bear-meat stew, if that is more to your liking.”

  “I’m tired of stew,” Nails said. “I would like the fish steak.”

  “Fish steaks for both of us then,” Brayson told her. “Fruit or vegetables?” he asked Flitter.

  “Vegetables for me,” Flitter said.

  Brayson expected the barmaid to leave, but she continued to stand beside their table. He looked up at her.

  “What is it?” the girl asked. She was staring at Flitter.

  “She is a sylph,” Brayson said. “The only faeries who have wings,” he added.

  “How can I get one?”

  “Forget it, girl,” Flitter said. “My kind does not associate with big-people unless they are special. You will never see one of us.”

  The girl looked shocked and turned away.

  “That was hurtful,” Brayson said.

  “It was also the truth,” Flitter told him sternly. “She treated me like I was a parrot sitting on your shoulder. She is closer to being an animal than I am.”

  Brayson could not think of anything to say after that, but speaking was not necessary because someone else stopped at their table. He looked up and saw his half-brother.

  “Hello, Brayson. Hello, Nails. You appear to be drawing a lot of attention,” Shawn said with a smile. “Will you introduce me to your friend?”

  “Flitter, this is my half-brother, Shawn. Shawn, this is my friend, Flitter.”

  Shawn pulled a chair out and sat down.

  “I am pleased to meet you, Flitter. You are a sylph, is that correct?”

  “Yes, I am. Are you familiar with my people?”

  “I have read about sylphs,” Shawn said, “but have never met one. Do you mind if I ask you some questions?”

  “What kind of questions?” Flitter asked.

  “Questions about sylphs. We have seen more of the fey since the Destroyer War, but no one knows much about your kind, so I would ask about you and your people. For example, my first question would be, are all sylphs as beautiful as you are?”

  “My people are known for their beauty,” Flitter told him. “However, among them, I stand out.”

  Their food arrived then, and Shawn ordered stew. After the barmaid left, Shawn waited while Brayson cut Flitter’s vegetables into pieces more manageable for her before he started asking questions. Brayson learned much about sylphs as he listened. Finally, Shawn appeared to have exhausted his questions.

  “How is your research going?” Brayson asked after Shawn’s stew arrived and he set to eating.

  “I have learned quite a bit from the scrolls I found here. Riverrun South was built long after we arrived. Southgate was one of the first cities built on the lakes.” He turned to Flitter. “I am talking about big-people cities, of course,” he told her. “I know the faerie races were here long before we arrived. Southgate was named Empire North when it was built. I have not been able to uncover the significance of the name yet, but I have discovered some interesting facts. From Southgate, people spread out and built the other cities of South Lake, this one included. Later, my ancestors and two other families arrived together. We went north in search of wealth and founded Nadia, Arcadia and Bernadice. I have studied scrolls at all of those places, so I am familiar with their history, but exactly where we all came from is still a mystery. I will finish up here by the new moon, and then I will go to Marshtown and then Delta. I hear there is a substantial collection of scrolls accumulated by the Wizard’s Council.”

  “That is where we are going,” Flitter told him.

  “Then perhaps I will see you all there.”

  Chapter 29

  Andoo Toran, Master of the Wizard’s Council, stood at the edge of the vision pool straining to bring clarity to the image that shimmered just above the surface of the water. Despite the lack of detail, he could tell it depicted a large, square, two-story building. The style was unfamiliar to him, but he received the impression of wealth and grandeur. The ground floor was open, without walls. He could make out rows of immense, round columns spaced throughout the interior and giving support to the second floor. It was that second floor that gave off the impression of opulence and power. Andoo pulled power through his staff, the end of which was immersed below the black waters of the vision pool. He attempted once again to force clarity. Nothing changed. The projection remained blurred as if it was floating below the surface of the water instead of above it.

  “Destroyer,” Andoo cursed.

  His body ached for a glass of Nadian Blush. He had restrained from drinking wine for three days as he prepared for this attempted reading. Andoo was partial to wine. He was known as a connoisseur in some quarters, but in the past year he realized how dependent he had become on it. He also had an uneasy feeling that his love of wine might have something to do with his failing wizard’s sight. He was not ready to admit that possibility yet, but he was aware of it and was taking steps to reduce his drinking. He let the vision, and the haze of water that created it, drop back into the pool. The black water settled, and all evidence of the building on the surface vanished. He would have a glass of wine and try for the vision again in a few days. Andoo pulled the tip of his staff out of the pool, turned, and headed to his chambers. Pushing through the double doors that granted the Masters’ office access to the pool, he found his assistant, Jerger, waiting for him.

  “You have visitors, Master,” Jerger informed him.

  “Who are they?”

  “One is a KaAnian named Nails.” Andoo felt a wave of heat pass through him. “Are you all right, Master?” Jerger asked. “You suddenly went pale.”

  “I am fine, but I believe the Mother just reached out to me,” Andoo told him. “You said three visitors. Who are the others?”

  “One is a mixed-blood named Brayson. The other is a sylph. Her name is Flitter.”

  “A sylph, a Cross and a KaAnian,” Andoo repeated. “Well, bring them along, Jerger. This sounds like the beginning of an interesting story. I will see them in my office.”

  Jerger shuffled off, and Andoo continued into his private office. Jerger was getting on in age. He had slowed down considerably of late. Andoo poured himself a glass of Nadian Blush from the ever-present decanter. He had time before his visitors arrived to relax with a small glass and consider what he had just felt. At the mention of the name, Nails, a feeling had passed through him. He had felt it before. It was a path of destiny revealing itself to him, but when it happened previously, many years ago, he had been using a discovery spell. It had never just come to him like it did this time. As if that was not enough to pique some interest, the name Nails would have done it. His niece, Micka, had named her baby Nails just before his birth had killed her, but Nails was dead, killed in a sailing mishap, according to a message from his caregiver, Magga. Something was happening, and unfortunately, Andoo Toran could not get a clear vision of what it was.

  His glass was empty although the memory of finishing it was not there. He poured another half-glass and went to sit at his desk. His glass was empty again, and he was considering yet another half-glass before a knock sounded at his door.

  “Come,” he called as he stood.

  Jerger opened the door and ushered two men into the room. Andoo felt magic enter with them. He could sense it in all three of them. The sylph was a faerie, so feeling magic from her was not a surprise, a
lthough her appearance certainly was. He estimated she was two hand-spans tall. She was dressed in a yellow blouse covered by a leather vest, and her short leather skirt fell to mid-thigh. Her face was stunningly attractive with a button nose and bright blue eyes which seemed to sparkle. She stood on the shoulder of a man with unruly, long, red hair and blue eyes. The man was slightly shorter than average but appeared even smaller standing next to the KaAnian whose bald head was at least two hand-spans higher. He was big even for one of that race; his arms, chest and shoulders were massive, and the muscles in his legs stretched the leather of his pants.

  “Hello, Uncle,” the KaAnian said.

  “Nails?” Andoo blurted. “How...she told me you were dead.”

  “See,” Nails said to the other man. “He wants me dead. It was a mistake to come here.”

  Andoo saw sparks jump between the fingers of Nails’ hands.

  “Want you dead?” Andoo was having trouble following what was happening. “I never wanted you dead. You lived in my house, and I hired Magga to take care of you. I bought a house for you on the coast after I came here. Why would you think I wanted you dead?”

  “Magga told me,” Nails said.

  Andoo was feeling overwhelmed and unsteady. He walked over to his staff and leaned on it, drawing power into his core. The haziness he had been feeling passed.

  “I never wanted you dead, Nails. You are Micka’s son. I loved her, and I loved you while you were with me. I was devastated when I heard you were dead. Why Magga would tell me that, or tell you I wanted it, is beyond my understanding. But I am being a poor host. Jerger set out food and drink for our special guests and ask our other guest to join us.”

  ***

  Nails was uncertain about what he should do. Andoo had said he didn’t want him dead, but anyone faced with the fact that someone they had arranged to be killed was still alive and standing in front of them would probably say the same thing. He would ask Brayson about it later, if there was a later. No, there had to be a later. If Andoo Toran could teach him to control his magic, he would be able to live a normal life, change his destiny, perhaps even find a girlfriend. Without his help, Nails knew he would have to stay away from people. His magic was too volatile, too wild, too strong. He would end up killing Brayson by bringing a building down on top of him. Nails could not let that happen. He might have seen it in the far darrig vision, but that didn’t mean it was true. Did it?