The well was located in the center of the village, so he walked there with her and then, after she had filled them, he took both the buckets. They were heavy, but holding one in each hand improved his balance and made it easier to walk.
“You don’t have to carry both,” said Annabelle. “We can share the load.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he replied. “I need the exercise.”
Tracy Tanner spotted him and called out to him as they walked back to Annabelle’s house. “Come by after you finish!” she said loudly. “We have a gift for you.”
Will nodded, and then noticed Annabelle looking at him from the side of her eyes. “What?” he asked.
“She’s been talking about you for months,” said the girl. “She tells everyone how you saved Joey.”
“That’s crazy,” said Will, feeling uncomfortable. “I just made a poultice for him.”
“She thinks you used magic to heal him,” said Annabelle. “You’ll probably make a great doctor.”
“Doctors don’t use magic,” argued Will.
“You don’t have to hide it from me, Will,” she replied. “Everyone knows that sorcerer stopped at your house last year.”
“He just wanted some herbs.”
“I think he was there looking for a new apprentice,” she opined.
Will laughed. “Sorcerers don’t take apprentices. They pass their elementals to their heirs.”
Annabelle gave him an odd look. “You seem to know a lot about how they work.”
He put the buckets down in front of her door as he searched for an answer. “My master is pretty knowledgeable. He’s taught me about a lot of things.”
She gave him a sly look. “Mm hmm.”
Will glanced around. “I’d better get going.”
Annabelle put a hand on his arm. “Will you be coming back for the Festival of Elthas?”
He stopped dead in his tracks and his heart went cold. He hadn’t thought about the name of the fae lord in connection with the holiday. Were they one and the same? It was held near the end of May, and from what he knew it was a holiday particular to Barrowden. Like most such events, there would be a lot of drinking and dancing and some of the village men would wear antlers on their heads in honor of the pagan god.
“What’s wrong?” asked Annabelle. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Nothing,” he answered, forcing himself to focus on the girl once more. “I was just remembering something I forgot to do. I’ll be in trouble later.”
Annabelle returned to her original topic, ignoring his remark. “I only mentioned it because Eric’s been asking me if I would accompany him to the dance, but I haven’t decided how to answer him.”
He wasn’t paying attention and he replied hastily, “That’s wonderful, Anna. I really need to go.”
The girl flinched, and he knew instantly that he’d said something wrong. Replaying her words in his mind, he felt like a fool. Apologizing, he backed away. “I have to hurry. Sorry!”
He crossed the lane and headed down it toward the Tanners’, and when he looked back Annabelle had already gone inside. She must think I’m an idiot, he decided. And I’m inclined to agree with her.
Joseph Tanner opened the door to their home as soon as Will came into view; apparently, he had been watching for him. He offered his hand and Will shook it, feeling strange at the older man’s show of respect.
“I wanted to thank you for what you did for us, and to apologize for how I spoke to you that day,” said Joseph.
Will dipped his head. “You were just worried. You shouldn’t apologize.”
“I feel better doing it,” said Mr. Tanner. “Come inside.” He stepped back, holding the door wide.
Feeling embarrassed, Will did, trying not to wrinkle his nose at the smell. While he loved the smell of leather, going to the source of such goods was a pungent education. Since they operated a tannery behind their home, it was inevitable that some of the acrid smell from the tanning pits found its way inside.
He fervently hoped he wouldn’t be offered food, for his appetite had all but vanished.
Tracy Tanner smiled as he came in and motioned toward her son, who was now over three. “He hardly even has a scar. I can’t thank you enough.”
“I really didn’t do much,” said Will humbly.
“Don’t be so modest,” countered Joseph Tanner. “Your mother tries to play it down, but we know you worked a miracle to save our boy.”
Tracy held up a leather satchel in her hands, pushing it toward him. “I made this for you.”
Remembering his weeks of cutting wood, Will felt a momentary panic. The old man will work me to death if I accept this. “I don’t deserve something like that,” he protested.
Joseph took the bag from her and pressed it into his hands. “It’s made from one of my best hides. Tracy spent half the summer stitching it for you.”
The leather felt soft, almost buttery in his hands, similar to doehide, though it was made of more durable cowhide. It was a wide satchel, with a sturdy flap closing it and a long strap for his shoulder. Feeling guilty, he looked inside and was amazed to find that it was divided down the center, with one side forming a large space while the other was subdivided into multiple compartments. Both sides of the interior had been carefully lined with linen. Will closed it again and then noticed that the outside flap was tooled and decorated with a pattern of oak leaves.
“I can’t afford this,” he stammered, still thinking of his grandfather.
Tracy clucked. “It isn’t a matter of affording. We owe you a debt and this is the only way we have to repay you.”
When he still looked hesitant, her husband chimed in, “It would be rude to refuse a gift like this.”
Will bowed his head in defeat. “Thank you. I’ll treasure it.”
“I thought all the compartments might be useful for herbs or whatnot,” said Tracy. “When you’re out gathering.”
That wasn’t really true. If he was gathering wild herbs, he generally tied them into bundles and hung them over his shoulder; putting them into a bag would bruise them, but the satchel would still be useful for any number of other things. “It’s very thoughtful of you,” said Will.
By the time he left a few minutes later, Will was beginning to experience a burning pain all over his body. He ran all the way to Eric’s house, hoping to use up more energy, but he was still itching when he got there. To his disappointment, neither Eric nor his father were home.
“It’s been forever since I’ve had a chance to look at you, Will!” said his Aunt Doreen as she invited him in. She held him out at arm’s length and studied him from head to toe, while Sammy smirked at him from behind her mother. “Are you eating enough? Why are you so skinny?”
“Well…”
“I can’t believe your mother is letting you live with that old man,” declared his aunt before he could respond. “It’s shameful. She could do a lot better for you if she’d get over that willful pride of hers.”
He had no idea what she meant by that, and the expression on her face when she saw his questioning look told him that she had said more than she meant to. She quickly tried to cover up her slip. “I just meant she could find you a proper apprenticeship in Cerria, if she just put a little effort into it.”
Will’s eyes met Sammy’s and she shrugged, indicating she had no idea what her mother was referring to either.
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone where I’m at,” said Will. “I told Annabelle Withy that I’m studying medicine.”
Sammy spoke up. “Don’t worry. We’ve been pleading ignorance whenever the neighbors ask.”
His aunt looked displeased. “You shouldn’t lie, Will.”
“Well, it’s sort of true,” he said helplessly. Trying to change the topic, he asked, “Where’s Eric?”
“Johnathan took the boys to the city with him to deliver a new wagon to a buyer,” responded Doreen. “They probably won’t be back until to
morrow.” She looked at him again, then added, “You should eat with us.”
The smell of lamb was already beginning to drive him mad, but the pain of Arrogan’s spell was steadily increasing. It felt as though ants were crawling over him. He didn’t want to be there when it got too bad for him to hide. “I have to get back soon,” he answered quickly. “I just wanted to give Eric and Sammy something for the cot and pillow they brought me.” He held out his hand with the gold crown shining in his palm.
Doreen’s eyes bulged slightly. “Where did you get that?”
“Gr—my master asked me to give it to you,” said Will, silently kicking himself for almost saying ‘Grandfather.’ He knew Eric had already discussed it with his dad, but he was afraid of bringing up another uncomfortable topic.
“It’s far too much,” declared his aunt.
“Please take it,” said Will. “He’ll be upset with me if you don’t.”
“I can’t even make change for this,” complained Doreen. “Besides, it was a gift. You shouldn’t pay us anything—hey!”
Will was backing out the front door. He dropped the coin on a shelf as he went. “Just take it. I don’t think the old man cares about money, anyway. I really need to get going.” He darted outside and started jogging away.
His aunt followed him out, calling to him, “Wait! You didn’t even take any food. We can’t take this!” Then she pushed her daughter in his direction. “Go after him! Tell him to come get some food to carry home.”
He kept going, while Sammy chased his steps. With her shorter legs, she couldn’t have caught him, but he pulled up once he was outside the village. She glared at him as she reached him, but she was panting too hard to speak immediately.
“Sorry about that,” he told her. “I was afraid your mom wouldn’t take the money if I didn’t leave it and run.”
“You’ve gotten really weird since you left home,” said Sammy as she caught her breath. Then she pointed at his bag. “Where’d you get that?”
“The Tanners,” he said simply.
She nodded, understanding immediately. “Oh.” After another breath she added, “You really should take some food. There’s too much with Dad and the boys out of the house.”
“I really can’t wait,” said Will. The pain was getting worse, so he began jogging in place, earning him another strange look from his cousin.
“There’s something else I wanted to tell you,” Sammy informed him. “A messenger came from Cerria yesterday. He went to your mom’s house. After that, he stopped in the village and asked several people about you.”
A feeling of alarm passed through Will, and his pain increased for a moment. “What did he want to know?”
“Can you hold still for a second?” asked Sammy. “It’s too weird trying to talk to you like this.”
“Sorry, I have to burn off some energy,” said Will honestly.
She sighed. “He was asking general questions. How you’ve been, where you’re living, that sort of thing, but he spent several minutes with the Tanners. Who knows what they told him?”
Will had no answer for that. He couldn’t even speculate, but he doubted it would be anything good for him in the long run.
“Would you just stop?” said Sammy, frustrated. “All that bobbing is making me dizzy.”
He did, and she put her arms around him, giving him a hug. “I don’t know what you’re into these days, but be safe.”
Will hugged her back, then broke away. “Thanks for the pillow, Sammy. I really love it.” Then he began running, leaving her behind.
As he went, he heard her parting comment. “Weirdo.”
Chapter 15
Will ran as hard as he could back to Arrogan’s house, but despite his best efforts the pain continued to build. His body simply couldn’t do enough to burn off his extra energy, and when he was forced to stop and catch his breath, things only got worse.
The old man began cackling as soon as he returned. “Oh, this is too good.”
“It’s not funny,” insisted Will. “It really hurts!” He was jogging in place inside the house.
“It’s hilarious from where I’m sitting,” said Arrogan, grinning. “Maybe you should try dancing. It’d be more entertaining.”
“Stop making fun of me!” said Will, desperate. “My body feels like it’s on fire! Help me!”
His grandfather sighed. “Don’t be so dramatic. Let me explain…”
“I don’t need explanations. I need you to take the spell off of me!” Will was jumping up and down now.
The old man held up a hand, and once again a green line of power shot forth, spearing into Will’s chest. A second later, his body stopped moving, and other than breathing, he was completely paralyzed. His mouth didn’t work either, so he couldn’t even protest. Arrogan stepped closer and pushed, causing him to fall backward.
He would probably have cracked his head on the floor, but something caught him in midfall and he found himself floating toward his cot, where he was gently deposited. His guardian walked over to stare down at him. “Now perhaps we can talk without all that ridiculous jumping and whining.”
Will glared hatefully at his tormentor. The pain was growing worse, but he was entirely unable to move or otherwise express his distress.
“Apparently your best idea was to use your muscles to burn off some of your turyn,” said Arrogan, “and while this shows that you do indeed have a capacity for thought, I’m afraid it’s a hopeless solution for your problem.
“As you have discovered, physical activity does use some of your turyn, but it’s a small amount. If you were a little smarter, you might have tried keeping your emotions in check, since those can affect it as well, but that’s ultimately a dead-end also.
“The only effective way to use up your turyn quickly is by doing magic of one form or another,” the old man smiled maliciously. “Which is why learning this lesson is much easier if you don’t know how to do that. What you’re supposed to learn here is how to reduce the amount of turyn you produce.
“Unfortunately, that’s really hard to do. It’s akin to learning how to not breathe. The longer you hold your breath, the more it feels as though your lungs are about to explode. Your body will fight you all the way.” His grandfather straightened up and walked away. “I’ll start dinner while you work on it.”
It felt like he was dying, and he silently cursed the old man, until the pain grew too intense for him to even do that. Arrogan’s voice carried to him over the smell of bacon frying. “Not to worry. I’ll keep a close eye on you to make sure you don’t die, but I doubt it will come to that.”
Time passed with agonizing slowness, while Will sweated and suffered. The pain was even worse than what he had felt after being bitten by the emerald viper. I’m going to kill him if I ever get free, thought Will.
Once dinner was finished, his grandfather sat down nearby and began eating. “Would you like some?” offered the old man. Then he laughed. “No, I suppose not.” He finished eating and then went about the chore of washing the dishes, all the while seeming as though he had not a care in the world.
Eventually, Will lost touch with the outside world. He was trapped in a prison of pain, without any hope of reprieve. In his mind’s eye, he could almost see the flame of his turyn, burning and straining against a cage of green light. A voice intruded on his awareness, “Imagine you’re squeezing a muscle, or maybe your fist. You have to tense it tightly, as though you’re trying to squeeze the life out of something.”
He couldn’t tense anything, since his body was paralyzed, which forced him to do what the old man asked purely in his imagination. Will visualized it in various ways, as a fist, or as though he was hugging something tightly, but nothing seemed to work. In the end, he imagined his grandfather’s neck and thought about choking the old man to death. That didn’t work either, which seemed like a real shame.
As the evening wore on, Will found his mind disassociating itself from his body, making the pain feel dist
ant, almost unimportant. He began to think more clearly, and then, almost by accident, he happened upon the solution.
It was impossible to describe, but once he found it, he knew it was right. A secret place inside himself that pulsed and burned, producing the turyn that was causing him so much agony. Mentally, he caught hold of it and squeezed. Nothing happened at first, but gradually his pain began to fade, and a refreshing sensation of coolness washed over his body.
His breathing became easier, and he knew he had done it. Opening his eyes, the one part of his body still under his control, he glanced around to see if his grandfather had noticed. From the corner of his left eye, he spotted the old man still sitting in the chair across from him. Arrogan was sound asleep.
He wanted to shout with frustration, but the paralysis made it impossible. I did it, you ornery old geezer! Let me go! In his anger, his grip on the source slipped for a moment, but he hastily got it back under control.
The rest of the night was less painful, but it was a misery nonetheless. Will was tired and weary from the long hours of agony, and he quickly slipped into slumber, but after a half an hour or so the pain returned. He woke as the burning began, and he was forced to reassert his control over the source of his turyn. The cycle repeated itself throughout the night, until the sun began to peek through the windows.
When he woke the final time, the room was bright and he could smell eggs cooking. He had become so accustomed to paralysis that it was several moments before he discovered he could move.
Arrogan greeted him with a smile when he sat up. “Are you hungry?”
“For blood, you sadistic bastard!” Will growled. “How could you do that to me? I nearly died!”
“Not even close,” said his grandfather. “You should be proud. You learned in a day what some take months or years to manage. Of course, it was all due to my enlightened teaching methods, but still, you are due some of the credit.”
Will cast about, looking for the axe. Where did I leave it? The porch, it was on the porch. Feeling a new determination, he got to his feet to go retrieve it. His mentor didn’t even watch as he left the room, so intent was the old man on his cooking.
The Choice of Magic Page 11