At the corners of the houses, strange creatures had been carved from wood and leaned out over the edge, mouths open to spit out the rainwater as it came down.
It felt as if they watched his approach with sinister eyes, even though the moonstone made him invisible.
The grass was long and unkempt, and the flowerpots and flowerbeds around the houses were dead and withered.
Somewhere off to the right, in deep undergrowth, a bird called the same song over and over.
He climbed the stairs to the raised front door, and as his hand touched the doorknob, the sobbing within cut off. Soren hesitated, trying to work out what else was wrong, and then realized the bird had stopped calling at that moment as well.
Silence pressed on him, as if he had suddenly lost his hearing, the feeling so strong he was relieved when he pushed the door and the hinges squealed as the door swung inward.
The shutters were closed on the windows, and inside it was almost pitch black.
Soren shoved the door fully open to let in the light and stood to the side of the door, looking in.
At first he thought he was looking at a child. The crying had sounded like one, and it was the right size; its back to him as it sat on a stool.
But the hair, which wasn’t hair at all, but spikes, like sharp twigs, said different, and when it turned to look over its shoulder, he knew.
Its face was hard and sharp; its nose small and sharp, too. Its chin was pointy and its eyes were huge in its face.
“Who is it?” Its voice held the high whine of a petulant toddler and Soren remembered he was holding the moonstone, and it couldn’t see him.
It hunched a little, hugging itself; its thin, twiggy arms sticking through the too-big sleeves of the dress it had put on.
The skirt had been raggedly cut just below the knee and it wore no shoes on its narrow feet.
With surprise, he saw the scissors, and the discarded hem of the dress, on the table, as if it had just moved into this house and taken what it had found.
“Well?” There was impatience in its tone and Soren realized it was looking straight at him. It knew he was there, even if it couldn’t see him.
He dropped the moonstone back into his pocket.
The thing blinked at him. “This is mine now.” It threw its hands out to encompass the room and then grabbed handfuls of the too-large dress and pressed them to its chest.
Soren gave a nod. “We were concerned, because you were crying, that’s all. We wanted to be sure you were all right.”
It got to its feet, turned to face him. “We?”
“My friend and I.”
“Where is your friend?” It looked beyond his shoulder, straining to see over him.
“She’s waiting outside.”
“Oh dear.” Its eyes, a deep bark brown, widened. “Nasty things outside.”
“Nasty things?” Soren asked it.
“Why do you think I was crying?”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
KAYLA AND RANE
Y lana bent and dipped her fingers into the earth. “When young witches start their training, they physically connect to the source.”
Kayla stepped closer to a ball of wild magic, and sunk her hand into it.
“My first spell was to grow a sapling from a seed.”
She threw the seed down, and Kayla saw the air pulse, saw the glimmer of green where Ylana’s hand touched the soil, and a small tree, the height of her waist, rose up.
She had never physically touched wild magic when she’d used it before. It fed itself to her in fine threads of power, streaming out like spider’s silk.
Ylana handed her a seed and she pressed it into the ground.
“Think of it growing, think of it as strong and healthy.”
Kayla nodded, and the wild magic nudged even closer to her, so her arm was elbow-deep in it.
The ground shifted, and with a muted roar, a tree rose up. And up. And up.
Kayla looked upward, and couldn’t see the top, the branches were so huge, and so thick with leaves, it was impossible.
“Listen.” Ylana inclined her head, and then Kayla heard it. A faint rumbling as if there was thunder far away.
She felt the vibration under her feet and looked out into the forest.
There were new trees everywhere. None as big as the one she’d created, but pines and oaks her height or even bigger were dotted through the old growth. A ball of wild magic hovered beside each one.
Ylana gripped one hand with the other, and her knuckles were white. “It’s done this before? Some of the magic copying what you did by itself?”
Kayla shook her head; frowned. “Wild magic has always performed its own magic. That’s why no one will come into the Great Forest.”
“But this is different. It copied you. Did what you did, not its own magic.” Ylana turned slowly around the clearing. “It hasn’t bespelled anything since you began to call it to you, has it? What it created before, that still exists, but nothing new.”
Kayla shrugged. “I haven’t seen anything, but that doesn’t mean it hasn’t.”
Ylana shook her head. “No. No, I think I’m right in this.” She turned once again, and Kayla saw for the first time, really saw, how many balls of wild magic surrounded the clearing. At least half again more than there had been.
Ylana let her hands drop to her sides. “It’s good to know, and we learned it with something harmless, like new trees.” She tried to smile, and Kayla realized she was thinking of other spells she could have chosen, and the chaos if some of the hundreds of wild magic balls surrounding them had followed suit. “In future, you will need to be specific. Nothing general and open like thinking of growing healthy trees from a seed.”
Kayla gave a nod. The ball of wild magic she’d used to create the massive tree which shaded her and Ylana from the midday sun had shrunk to half its size, and Ylana gave that a long look, as well.
“Not even fully used up.” She walked to the tree and ran her hand along the trunk. “I think I believe you, now.”
Kayla frowned. “Believe me about what?”
“That you could be what brings the sorcerers down.”
* * *
A ndrei Wolfsblood had already made his move.
Rane sat in a dark corner of the only inn in Urlay, the main town in Phon, and listened to the gossip.
It was only eleven in the morning, but the large, well-kept inn was almost full.
The branches of the Great Forest hadn’t exactly parted as he’d approached them, but unlike his previous journeys through it, the going had been easy.
Easier than it should have been.
It meant he’d made good time before he’d had to stop for the night, and he’d woken early and continued on, to find himself only an hour away from his destination.
Nothing had stopped him. Neither the creatures of the Great Forest itself, nor of wild magic.
He didn’t doubt Ylana’s blessing was behind it. The capricious, sometimes ancient, creatures of the Great Forest would heed her. And, as he’d seen, the very branches of the trees themselves.
He hadn’t expected trouble from wild magic. He had Kayla’s blessing as protection against it, although he knew some of the creatures it had made were independent of it, and vicious, too. But if he’d crossed paths with any of them, they hadn’t made themselves known.
He had found two wild magic items, though.
They’d called to him, annoying as a squeaky door until he veered from the path and picked them up.
The first was a spoon, silver and with an ornate pattern along the handle.
He didn’t touch it with his bare hands, he used a handkerchief to drop it into the pouch attached to his belt.
The second was a stone. He’d found it just after he’d started his journey this morning, and he knew, with the extra sense he’d developed over time, that this was something very powerful.
He didn’t have time to work out what it might do, so he’d dropped it in
with the spoon, a mystery to solved later.
He’d slipped into Urlay as the gates had opened for morning trade, and now he hunched over a mug of cider and some bread and cheese, listening to the good townsfolk talk in hushed voices about how Andrei Wolfsblood had been summoned by a great lord and had left Urlay to its own devices.
Not everyone was sorry about their new circumstances.
“Never did much, did he? Except stir up trouble.” A large man leaned back in his chair, and took a deep drink of ale. “He was bound to the King of Phon, but Vik hasn’t managed to pull Phon out of the hole his father dug for us all with his petty wars.”
“Still not right. A sorcerer follows the code, or he’s nothing. That’s what they say.”
“That’s what they said, until Eric the Bold killed Hirst Red Tongue.” The woman who spoke stirred a bowl of soup without eating any of it. “Then it seemed a lot of sorcerers worked out breaking the code meant more power.”
“Looks like Andrei has joined those ranks.” The publican delivered a trayful of food to a nearby table and joined in the conversation. “I heard it were William of Nesta came calling for him. Personally.”
“Nesta’s a principality tucked inside Klevan, isn’t it? Why would Andrei go there?” The big man set his ale on the table with a thump.
“A rich, powerful principality is sometimes better than a kingdom. And Nesta is in the northern part of Middleland. Andrei is clever enough to know north is where whoever wins this stand-off will have to look to next if they want to expand.”
“And what of Klevan?” The woman finally took a sip of her soup. “What’s the King of Klevan going to think when William of Nesta starts bring in sorcerers like Andrei, who’ve broken the code? And doesn’t William have a powerful sorcerer anyway? Gerald of Halakan?”
There was silence for a beat. No-one answered. No-one wanted to. The only end to all this maneuvering was war.
And no-one wanted to say it.
Rane had finished his meal but he sat staring down into his plate.
William of Nesta either had two powerful sorcerers now, or something had happened to Gerald of Halakan.
His need to find Soren amidst this power-broking grew stronger, until he abandoned his cider, unable to swallow it.
He rose and went to the bar to pay his bill. “I couldn’t help but overhear the local news.” He put the coins down on the counter, and the publican, back behind the thick wooden slab of the bar-top, slid them off into his palm with a grunt.
“I was just curious. I have a friend who I thought was with Andrei Wolfsblood. Did he take all his people with him, or are they still here?”
The publican narrowed his eyes. “Andrei only had one apprentice, and there wasn’t anyone else living in his house. Ever.”
Rane frowned, feigning confusion. “My friend wasn’t an apprentice, he was a knight.”
“Protection? For Andrei?” The publican scoffed. “Whoever told you that was selling you a pile of cow dung, my friend. Andrei Wolfsblood didn’t hold with guards. Thought it made him look weak. It was him, that apprentice, and a woman who came in once a day to clean and make meals, and that was it.”
Rane gave a nod, and left. He wove through the market crowds and got directions, until he stood outside Andrei’s house.
It was out of town, in a clearing of its own, within sight of the King of Phon’s castle.
There was a feral, smokey stench about it, and it looked dark. It also looked empty. It didn’t have an abandoned air about it, but if the stories were right, Andrei had left before Soren had even touched the gem and disappeared.
It didn’t mean that he hadn’t been magically transported here, it just meant there was no-one to harm him or help him when he’d arrived.
Rane walked to the door, and felt the pulse of magic which Andrei had left around the house.
There was a warding spell here, a powerful one.
Soren could be trapped in there, caught in the ward Andrei had left behind him.
Rane had no way to breach it. But he was going to have to try.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“IT’S INCREDIBLE.”
Ylana stood under her, looking up to where Kayla floated on a cushion of purple light.
It had begun as a lesson on drawing her power to her, something that Kayla had managed to do unconsciously since she’d set foot in the Great Forest.
Ylana wanted her to learn to do it consciously.
“Feel light with power, like you could fly away,” Ylana had told her, and as Kayla had imagined it, wild magic had gathered at her feet and she had begun to rise.
“Is it using itself up to keep you there?” Ylana looked at the ball of wild magic that supported her, and Kayla gave a slow shake of her head.
“I think if it wasn’t literally holding me up, if I was using its power to float without any support, the ball of wild magic would be slowly diminishing. But it’s actually using itself to lift me, and my fingers aren’t sparking. I don’t feel like I’m using it up.”
“It has actual mass, actual presence, something neither sky or earth magic have. I should have considered this before.”
Kayla imagined herself back on the ground, and was gently lowered. She put out a hand and stroked the wild magic, and Ylana gave her a look.
“My heart stops in my chest when you do that. When you touch wild magic.”
The wild magic drifted back, spinning. There were hundreds of balls like it floating through the trees, casting a faint purple glow in the shadows.
“This must be all the wild magic in the Great Forest.”
Kayla nodded. “I think so. It wants to be used, needs to be expended. Before I came along, it expended itself. And caused a lot of trouble.”
She looked across at Sooty, lying sprawled in a patch of sunlight, and one of the big cat’s ears twitched.
Kayla smiled. “And created some wonders, too.”
“Have you thought,” Ylana looked at her in that direct, merciless way of hers, “have you thought that the best thing you can do in this fight is to work on a way to free wild magic from the Great Forest? You could take it with you wherever you went, you wouldn’t be restricted to fighting the sorcerers near or in the Great Forest, either.”
Kayla ran her fingers lightly through the wild magic ball beside her, tinting her fingers in purple light. “I’ve thought about it. Of course I have.” She let her hand drop to her side. “But if I succeed, and I’m not sure I can, I would be loosing wild magic onto everyone else in Middleland, too, not just the sorcerers. And it may be happier with me directing it, but as we saw yesterday with the trees, it still has a mind of its own. It could turn whole villages to stone, or to trees or animals. Whole flocks of sheep into beautiful women, or birds.” She shrugged. “It would be easier for me, yes. But if I’m doing this for Gaynor, and the whole of the Middleland, there still has to be a Middleland left when I’m done.”
Ylana sat down, rubbing her arms. “When a witch starts working with earth magic, she needs to let go of her ego, allow the earth magic to work through her. And with sorcerers, they must use their own energy to call sky magic down. It weakens them, so they need time to recover after each spell. But you don’t need to do either of those things, and there is a . . . friendship, I want to call it, between yourself and wild magic. I see how you touch it, how it gravitates to you. It’s as if you are old friends who have found each other. The relationship is more equal than with earth and sky magic, and more companionable.” Ylana leant back against the tree trunk and shook her head. “I don’t think you need my help. I don’t think you ever did.”
Kayla crouched beside Sooty and stroked her head. “I disagree. If you say you have no more to teach me, I accept that, but I have learned from you these last two days. I’ve learned more about the nature of wild magic, its strengths and its weaknesses compared to the magic I’ll face when I go up against Eric and whoever else thinks they can rule the kingdoms and principalities of Middleland.�
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Ylana nodded. “Fair enough. Now, what’s your plan?”
Kayla let her fingers rub behind Sooty’s ears. “I’ll help Rane find Soren, and spy on the sorcerers who might have him while I do.” She smiled as Sooty began to purr, rumbling like thunder in the distance. “And then, when I understand who they are, I will take them down, one at a time.”
“By confronting them separately, you risk at least one of them learning about what you intend in advance, and preparing himself.”
Kayla shrugged. “There is nothing I can do about that.”
Ylana looked up at her from under arched white brows. “Yes, there is.” She rose up, not slowly, like the old woman she looked, but almost as if the ground itself had pushed her effortlessly to her feet.
She held out a hand, and a sigh ran through the trees, leaves shivering and branches swaying, as the forest seemed to exhale.
“You are powerful, Kayla, but I am the earth witch of the Great Forest. And I say, this is my fight, too.”
* * *
The sky over Phon was an endless, infinite blue.
Rane lay, gasping for breath, looking up at it, while he waited for his arms and legs to feel part of him again.
This was the third time Andrei’s ward had tossed him, like a limp rag doll, as he’d tried to get to Andrei’s door, and he had to accept there was no way through it.
As his breathing eased, a face peered in his field of vision.
“I don’t know what I expected, but you don’t look like a thief.”
Rane raised his head, saw he was surrounded by at least ten armed men, and flopped back down again. “I’m not.”
“Then why are you trying to get into my sorcerer’s house?”
Rane half-raised his head again, looked at the man and then forced his body to relax. This had to be the King of Phon. Vik the Steady.
“I need to make sure my brother’s not in there.”
Vik rubbed his chin. “Why would he be?”
The Silver Pear (The Dark Forest Book 2) Page 10