by Dan Wingreen
He was looking at the ground, but he somehow knew that Noah was smiling. "Thank you," he said, almost soothingly. "Where in Ohio are they headed?"
"I don't know. A…cave, I think. Somewhere in the east."
"And why are they going there?"
"To wake up their Shaman."
"What?" Noah asked. "What does that mean?"
Two Rivers tried to remember the word they used. "Their…king."
"King? What king?"
Two Rivers shrugged. "I don't know. I didn't understand that part. They said he was dead, but he wasn't and…" He swallowed roughly, trying to remember everything they'd said about it. He hadn't really been paying attention at the time. The Shaman would have lau… He closed his eyes. "I don't know. They said his name was Arthur, I think."
Silence met his words. It took Two Rivers a while to even notice, but when he did, he froze. Had he said something wrong?
"What did you say?" Noah whispered.
"I—"
"Are you lying to me?" he asked, his voice hard. Two Rivers began to shake. He never thought, when he started talking, that the outsider might not believe him, but almost immediately Noah went on, talking to himself more than Two Rivers. "You savages are woefully ignorant of even the most basic facts about our way of life so how would you even know that name though? Unless…someone told you."
Two Rivers opened his eyes and glanced up at Noah, shocked by what he saw. His face was pale and tight. He looked…he looked exactly like people did the first time they saw a desert warg, actually. That unmistakable look of someone coming face to face with something they'd always been told was true, yet they never really believed.
"Are you absolutely sure that's what they said?" Noah asked suddenly, all his attention back on Two Rivers. "Aidan Collins and the man in black, they said they were going to find King Arthur and wake him up?"
Two Rivers nodded. "Yeah, they…seemed to think he could help them destroy your government? They—"
"They said that?" Noah asked. "They said they were going to use him to destroy the government? Those exact words?"
"I…" He thought back, but he couldn't remember the exact words. "Yes? I think."
Noah blinked. "Sweet Merlin's ghost…"
All at once, Two Rivers realized what was going on. The expression on his face, the way he was acting, it was all painfully familiar to him. "You're scared," he said in amazement.
"What?" Noah snapped.
"Whoever Arthur is, you're scared of him."
Two Rivers yelped in surprise as Noah jerked him into the air with a flick of his wrist. He hung there, dangling in an invisible grip above the ground, face to face with the outsider. "I am not scared of King Arthur. Arthur is the paragon of every virtue our society holds dear and he would never aid terrorists against the rightful government."
"Then," Two Rivers asked, a strange calm settling over him, "why do you look scared?"
That, apparently, was the wrong question to ask. Noah's jaw clenched and he slammed Two Rivers into the ground face first.
"Bryce! Barnes!" he yelled as he spun around. Two Rivers tried to move, but he was firmly held down by Noah's magic.
The two men came out of the yurt. "Yeah, boss?" Barnes asked warily.
"Are they all dead?"
Bryce nodded. "Just a pile of corpses."
"Good. Burn it down. We're leaving." He turned back to Two Rivers who watched as Barnes set fire to the yurt that had been his home for more than half his life.
"They're all dead?" he asked quietly.
"Since before you woke up," Noah snapped. "With the exception of a few who escaped and will die wandering through this wretched desert, your entire village is dead, save you and the old man."
He made another sharp gesture and, with a violent spray of blood, the Shaman's head toppled off his neck.
"Now, just you."
Two Rivers stared at the Shaman's corpse. At the face frozen in disappointment. He thought he would have felt gut wrenching sorrow, or maybe even relief that the Shaman was no longer in pain, but all he felt was a numb emptiness. The Shaman had died knowing Two Rivers was weak and pathetic. There was no comfort for him here.
Except, maybe, for the cold comfort of revenge.
"You won't stop them," Two Rivers said. "I've seen the future and they're going to make the world a better place. Your Arthur is going to help them—"
Noah stopped him with a gesture. It was strange, Two Rivers thought, as he saw the blood spray from the gaping wound in his throat. He'd have thought dying would have hurt more.
Noah turned away, barking orders at Bryce and Barnes like the coyote he was, but Two Rivers didn't care. A pool of blood spread out across the sand, the flames flickering from his burning home reflected in it with a haunting beauty. He wanted that to be the last thing he saw. Not the Shaman, who he didn't deserve to look at. Not his village that he'd failed. But his own blood showing him the final destruction of everything he'd held dear. That's what he deserved.
Darkness closed in on him for the second time that day. It really was strange, how being drained of magic felt so much like dying. And drinking. It was a great argument against all three. He laughed. Or would have laughed if he still had a throat. For some reason, that just made him want to laugh even more.
His last thought before he died was that he hoped the Shaman was right about his vision. He hoped Aidan and Eallair were the rivers that would make the world bright and beautiful.
And he hoped the bastard who broke him and destroyed his village was around to see it.
Chapter 4
Aidan collapsed onto the bed and moaned loudly. "Oh, that's so good."
Eallair dropped the duffel bag onto the hotel room floor and closed the door. He did something magic-y with the locks, then turned and gave Aidan an amused grin.
"You, uh, sound like you're enjoyin’ that, yeah?"
Aidan shot him a look. "Stop it."
"Stop what?" Eallair asked innocently.
"You keep turning everything into, you know"—he started to wave his hand in the air, but it was too heavy and he was too tired and comfortable so it just fell back down with a dull thump—"innuendo."
"Do I then? Hmm." With another grin he picked up the duffel and placed it on the other bed before opening it and rustling around inside. Aidan was about to close his eyes and ignore him in favor of sleep and comfort and a bed that wasn't made to collapse or was actually the backseat of his carriage, until the stupid sorcerer pulled a small dark green, wooden box out of the bag.
"No," Aidan groaned, suddenly a lot more awake than he wanted to be. He knew what that box meant. "Not tonight. Please."
"Yes. Tonight," Eallair said with an annoying air of finality. "You're the one who wanted to be learnin’ this, so you're damned well gonna learn it."
And sleep was just…right there!
He pushed himself up, ignoring the ache in his back and the even more bitter ache of disappointment in his heart.
"I can't," he said.
Since he was sitting up, he got his first look at the room and noticed it was cleaner than the last one they'd been in what seemed like a lifetime ago now. Fewer scratches on the furniture, the sheets were clean, and the fire sink looked like people actually remembered the sink part. Normally that would have made him relax, especially after four days of sleeping on the worst cots the People had in their various villages, or the back of his carriage, but every night he'd been trying and failing to learn to use his magic and it just wasn't working. Nothing Eallair, the supposedly oh-so-great teacher of wizards, did even came close to helping him, and Aidan had been knocked out by Eallair's horrible smelling herb more times than he could count. He glared at the box. He was tired and sore and ready to give up.
Eallair, however, had this infuriating habit of not letting him.
"Yes, you can," he said patiently. Annoyingly. "We just need to find out what your focus is. Once we do that, it'll be loads easier."
Aidan huffed, knowing exactly how much he sounded like a child and not caring. It had been almost five whole days since they left the village and they'd been driving for most of it. Even with the improvements the People had made to his carriage it still took them longer to get across the desert, then the plains, than it should have, because they kept getting stopped by People from other villages. Even when they weren't outright attacked or accused of murdering other People and stealing a carriage, it took them a while to show them the token and tell the story of how they earned it, even longer to get some of them to believe it. Then, once they stopped for the night, he still had to spend several hours trying and failing to use magic. On top of that, he couldn't even look forward to the trip going any faster now that they'd reached civilization again because they needed to avoid any road that linked up to the Highway. So it was going to be all back roads and dirt roads and long, winding paths that didn't go in an efficient straight line to where they wanted to go.
He figured he'd earned the right to be a fucking child by this point. For one night at least.
"You keep saying but it never happens!"
Eallair sighed. "You just need to keep tryi—"
"Are you even telling the truth?" Aidan snapped. "Or is this just another lie to tell the wizard? You seem to have a lot of those."
Silence met his words. Aidan winced, regretting them almost as soon as they were out of his mouth.
"Sorry," he said, subdued. "That was mean."
He felt the bed dip as Eallair sat down next to him. One surprisingly—still surprisingly after all this time—smooth hand rested on top of his.
"I ain't lyin’," he said.
"I know you're not," Aidan said quickly.
Eallair lips twitched. "Because I'm so bad at it?"
"No," he said. He refused to take the easy way out. Eallair deserved better. "Because I trust you, and you know it's important to me and you wouldn't lie about something important to someone you…love."
He blushed and looked away.
Eallair had been perfect the last few days, even with the useless lessons. Nothing had changed between them since what Aidan was beginning to think of as The Confession, not in a bad way, at least. Eallair kept things light and easy between them and took care of most of the heavy lifting when they ran into the People. He even kept the embellishment and storytelling to a minimum, although he admitted that was because the story wouldn't have the same impact on People from other villages. Not until they spoke to the People from what they'd started calling 'their village' at least.
Really, the only thing that changed was, every now and then, he'd tell Aidan he loved him.
And that was all it was. Just a quick "love you" or a "that's why I love you" or in one case "as much as I love you, I'm gonna smack you if you don't shut up about my socks". He never once pressured Aidan to say how he felt or even left in a pause for Aidan to say something back. He just said it and moved on with the conversation, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Never once did he try to make Aidan feel bad about not saying it back.
No, that was all on Aidan.
He wished he could sort out how he felt. Even after five days of thinking about it, more than he probably should have considering everything else they had to worry about, he wasn't much closer to figuring his feelings out.
The only thing he knew for sure about love was that everyone he’d ever loved eventually left him.
"Aye," Eallair said softly. "I wouldn't." He squeezed Aidan's hand. Aidan glanced up, and Eallair took that as an opportunity for a quick kiss. Aidan smiled into it, feeling better.
Kissing, at least, was something he'd gotten pretty good at understanding.
"So," Eallair said as he pulled away, "ready to give it another go?"
Aidan suppressed a groan, badly, when Eallair held the box up between them.
"I really hate that stuff."
Eallair's grin was one hundred percent sadistic teacher. "Everyone does."
"First thing I do when I can use magic is knock you out every five minutes," he grumbled.
"See? There's that confidence! Great teacher I am, bringin’ it back like that, eh?"
"I hate you."
Eallair grinned. "No, you don't."
Aidan suppressed a smile. "No. I don't."
That much he could be sure of.
◆◆◆
Aidan stared down at the stick in his hand. "I feel ridiculous."
"It's a wand!" Eallair said with a huge grin.
"It's a stick."
"Everyone loves wands!" Eallair said, completely ignoring Aidan.
"Eight-year-olds like wands," Aidan said, raising an eyebrow. He eyed the…wand, dubiously as he waved it back and forth. "I feel like that guy from that book—"
"Everyone likes wands," Eallair repeated, cutting him off. "They just don't wanna admit it because of the concentrated government effort to make wands seem childish and slightly girly."
Aidan blinked. "Concentrated gove—"
"It's anti-wand propaganda that is." Eallair nodded once. "Clear as day."
Aidan stared at him. "Do you even listen to the crap that comes out of your mouth?"
"I try not to."
"I really, really want to hurt you right now."
"Good!" Eallair said with a flourish. "So, use the wand and knock me on my ass with magic."
"You can't just—" Aidan ground his teeth together. "Stop turning you being annoying into a teaching tool!"
"Bothers you, does it?"
"Yes!"
"Then use it!"
Aidan glared and Eallair sighed.
"Look," he said, dropping the annoying tone and dramatic gestures. Strangely, that just annoyed Aidan even more. "I'm trying everything I can, okay? Sittin’ around meditating didn't work. Encouragement didn't work. Gestures didn't work. Spells didn't work. You can use magic; we just haven't found the right way to get it out of you. And, you're always at your best when you're a little bit pissed at me."
Aidan scoffed.
"It's true!"
"Then explain the wand," he said, ignoring the other thing because it obviously wasn't true. Probably.
"We tried all the mental stuff and we tried all the verbal stuff, now we gotta move onto the physical stuff. I know it seems stupid, but wands really do work." He paused. "Actually, they work pretty much every time."
"Then why didn't we start with them?" Aidan yelled, throwing his hands in the air.
Great, now I'm doing the dramatic flailing.
"Because…they're a bit ridiculous. I mean, wands right?"
Aidan's eye twitched.
"Okay! Okay! Guess that ain't working today," Eallair muttered. "Okay, seriously though, give it a go, eh? What harm can it do?"
Aidan opened his mouth to say it could damn well do a lot of harm, then realized how stupid that sounded. It honestly couldn't do any harm, and Eallair was right. They had tried everything else. They'd been at it for hours that night alone, trying and retrying everything they'd already tried, thinking maybe more familiar surroundings would help Aidan break through what Eallair kept calling the 'wizard barrier'. It hadn't worked, obviously, and if the idiotic stick in his hand might, then he had to try it.
No matter how stupid it made him feel.
"All right," Aidan sighed, most of the frustration bleeding away. "How do I use the…wand?"
To his relief, Eallair slipped back into teacher mode without any other comments.
"You gotta concentrate," he said. "I know I've said it a million times, but wizard magic needs a focus, somethin’ for you to direct the magic through so that you can cut it off whenever you want, the way a sorcerer would do naturally."
"Like a faucet, I know."
"Right. So… Close your eyes and focus on what you're wanting to do with your magic."
Aidan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He would have liked if there was some kind of click or something to let him know he was on the right track, but the only thing
that happened when he shut his eyes was that he could hear his heart thudding in his chest a lot clearer.
"The candle, still?" he asked.
He had his doubts about how smart it was for him to be trying to light a candle with magic, considering his history, but Eallair was insistent. He said since Aidan's magic seemed to want to make fire naturally, it would be the easiest thing for him to do. Plus, lighting a candle was the most basic test to show if someone could use magic or not. Even if it was the only spell he could pull off, it would at least get him around needing a Wizard's License.
"Aye," Eallair answered.
"Okay," Aidan said under his breath.
"Now, don't think of the wand as an extension of yourself. That'd be bad. It's yourself what ain't working right. Think of the wand as a shower head—"
"Again with the water metaphors…"
Lee ignored him.
"—you turn it on to get clean, and you turn it off when you don't want any more water. It's totally under your control, right?"
"Right," Aidan said after a moment's hesitation.
"Good. Now what you're gonna do is the same as before. Just picture the candle lightin’ up and give a little tug on your magic, but this time tug it towards your arm and think of turnin’ on a shower at the same time."
"Because that isn't hard at all," Aidan muttered.
"We'd have done it already if it were easy," Eallair said, a hint of a grin in his voice. "But once you get used to it, it won't be that hard. You'll just do it naturally. Kinda like how catchin’ a ball is hard if you're thinkin’ about each step, but once you're relaxed and confident you can just do it."
And now Aidan was thinking about trying to catch a ball in the shower while trying to light something on fire… He clenched his teeth and tried to force his thoughts to unscramble.
Concentrate. Take it seriously and just try.
He took another deep breath.
"Okay," he said. "I'm ready."
"All right," Eallair said. "Do it in your own time."
Right. My own time. Not like it's important that I learn how to do this now or anything.
He cut that line of thought off, too.