Magicless

by K. Ferrin

  They slept that night at the edge of a thick wood. The trunks were bigger than anything he’d ever seen before and their leaves looked like narrow green needles. They huddled at the edge of the wood and tried not to freeze to death in the cold. They took turns keeping a magefire burning for warmth and light.

  When they awoke in the morning, Jobin was gone.

  He’d left a note next to Magicless.

  I can’t bear it, the way they look at me now. Don’t come after me. I can do nothing for you now. Please just let me be.

  “Without his power he is useless to us, anyway,” Leali said sharply, shrugging. Tredon was clearly conflicted, and Ashier wanted to go after him, as did Elisa and Alekka. But Magicless insisted they let him go.

  “He’ll come back when he’s ready. He needs some time.” He hoped he was right about that. He imagined Jobin would want some time on his own. He felt certain he would keep pace with them and come back after a day or so of cooling off.

  The others let him talk them into leaving. He noticed Alekka tailed the group, marking trees and leaving other evidence of their passing. Jobin had the power to track them, though it was unclear if he knew it. Magicless wasn’t sure if she left the marks because she expected Jobin didn’t realize his powers had been unbound, if she did it for the others in the group, or if she just needed something to do as they marched ever closer toward their fate.

  [ 26 ]

  “It is so cold,” Alekka said.

  “I never imagined it could be this cold,” Magicless responded, teeth chattering.

  Conversation was sparse. It was all they could do to keep moving through the heavy snow that reached up to their hips in some places. All of them were winded and exhausted from the cold and the constant effort.

  “We read about it, of course. In school. We heard the tales. But I never imagined it could be like this,” Alekka said.

  On the second night after the river folk left them on the water’s edge they’d begun a fire-watch. The mages took shifts throughout the night keeping a magefire burning so the others could huddle around it and get what little rest they could. The deep, wet snow made actual fire impossible—everything was soaked through and the damned evergreen trees surrounding them refused to burn.

  Magicless sweated and panted all day slogging through the snow and froze all night as the temperatures plummeted and the wind kicked up. Always the wind kicked up as the sun set in the west. They’d also started to clear a sleeping space and pile walls of snow high to help block the frigid wind. They’d seen no prey, and Magicless worried constantly that they’d run out of food before they reached Nox Noctis. They’d come so far. The possibility that starvation and cold could end the journey caused him deep frustration.

  “Did you read about any animals that live up here?” Magicless asked. “We’ve seen nothing alive other than these damned trees for days now.”

  “Yes,” Alekka’s voice was muffled, her head deeply wrapped in her heavy woolen cloak and hood. “There are hares. Fox. There are deer-like creatures, too, and huge, shaggy beasts tall as a man. And fierce bears that are all white.”

  “How do we find them?”

  It was somewhere around midday but the heavy overcast made it hard to tell for certain. They’d been up before dawn, anxious to start moving. It had been four days since Jobin had left, and the mood had not improved. The only change was that the snow kept getting deeper and the cold colder.

  They had food for another day or two at most, and Magicless felt the endless gnawing of anxiety as they walked. They needed food, and a lot of it, to keep moving this way. They could not sustain slogging through this snow, the freezing temperatures, and the constant need for magefire without it.

  “You need to convince Elisa to go after Jobin,” Alekka said.

  “What?”

  “We need him, Micah. You need to convince her. She is the only one who can get him to come back.”

  “The last thing we need is for Elisa to vanish into this whiteness like Jobin. Then they’ll both get lost and we’ll be down another mage,” Magicless said.

  That silenced Alekka for a time, but not for long. She shifted under her cloak. “We need them both, or we will fail.”

  Her voice had that odd, hollow tone to it that made Magicless look over sharply at the shapeless mass of cloak and blanket she huddled under. He could see nothing of her through all the layers. Like all of them, she wore every piece of clothing she carried to help ward off the cold.

  “You can’t know that,” Magicless said gently. He didn’t want to push it in her face, but they both knew her magic was gone, and with it her connection to whatever forces had allowed her foretelling.

  “I know it from before. Everyone of us must be there, or we will fail,” Alekka said, sounding resigned.

  Alekka had always been known for absolute honesty in all things, but of late he’d begun to wonder. These days she was often vague, avoiding candid explanation when her comments solicited question. She avoided all their questions, not only his, and she often avoided looking into their eyes when she spoke. He felt she was hiding something from him—from all of them—and it made him ache.

  “Well, Elisa won’t even look at me, let alone talk to me,” Magicless pressed on, avoiding following his train of thought about Alekka’s strange moods. “She’s been withdrawn since Jobin left and I half think she blames me for him leaving.” He exhaled a sigh. “But I’ll try, since you asked. I’ll do it tonight over dinner. I doubt she’ll talk to me, but I’ll try.” He paused, looking towards her pile of blankets once more.

  “Alekka...”

  “Hmm?”

  “Do you think—” He paused, wondering if he should continue down this road. He missed her. He avoided the torment of hours of slogging through snow by day dreaming up ways they could be together. He dreamt every night that they’d find a way to overcome her binding and his…gift. They never discussed it. They’d simply pulled back into a platonic relationship, each realizing that was all they could have and enduring it with quiet desperation. It was better than not having her in his life at all, but it wasn’t enough.

  “Do you think we’ll ever find a way?” He finished at long last.

  She turned toward him, and he shuffled to face her in turn. He could see the light glinting off her liquid brown eyes deep within her hood. He could see the tears that swelled at their corners. He felt his own tear up in response. They stayed there, looking at each other, breathing.

  “I don’t know, Micah. I don’t know.”

  She turned and began walking again, and Magicless knew in his heart that she was hiding something from him. Something that mattered. He wanted to ask her but he didn’t know how, and fear kept him from trying.

  They walked in silence for the rest of the day—he and Alekka, but the others, too. Gone were the days of lighthearted frivolity and the singing of bawdy songs. These were the long, dreary days of freezing cold and empty landscapes and deep exhaustion. He thought of his forge at home-the heat rolling off it in waves, sweat soaking him as he flexed muscle to create form out of the formless. Some days he had cursed that heat. He longed for it now, and wondered if he’d ever feel warmth again or if he’d die up here in the snow. How long would his body remain encased in ice? Would his soul travel if his body remained intact? Or would his soul remain locked in his body until the ice melted?

  “I’m leaving.”

  The voice startled him and he spun on his heels, expecting Alekka had said something he’d missed most of, but it was Elisa standing beside him.

  “What?” He asked, feeling like a stupid clod for having to ask her to repeat herself.

  “I’m sorry I treated him so. I’m sorry he left. I miss him. I miss him every second.”

  She had pulled her head coverings from her face and he was shocked to see tears streaking down her wind-burned cheeks and onto her chapped and bleeding lips. This journey was undoing her just as it was undoing all of them.

  “Elisa, we
’ve traveled far. We have no idea where he went,” Magicless began, and then stopped himself. “It could take many days to find him and we can’t afford to stop and wait.” He finished, his tone more gentle.

  “I know, and you shouldn’t stop. We will catch up once I find him. I’ll spell him, and I’ll be able to find him quickly.”

  He looked over Elisa’s shoulder at Alekka, but she kept her head pointed steadfastly forward.

  Alekka’s words echoed in his mind. We need them both, or we will fail. He would not try to stop her.

  “Will you leave now or wait until after dinner?”

  “Now. While I still have daylight.”

  “Do you need food?”

  “No, I have enough with me for another day. I’ll find more if I need it.”

  He looked at her reddened cheeks and lips split from the cold. Her hair had escaped from its tight braid and it flailed wildly as the wind whipped around them. She had dark circles under her eyes and was clearly as exhausted as they all were, but steely determination glimmered in the depths of her eyes, and he knew without question she would find Jobin and bring him back.

  “Go in all haste, then, and please be safe, Elisa. We want you both back.”

  He reached his hands toward her and she clasped his wrists tightly. Their eyes met, and Magicless realized that this was the first time they’d voluntarily touched. She saw him as an equal. An ally. A friend. He saw her as the same. Her eyes flickered away and he turned to see the others had gathered around them.

  “You are going, then,” Ashier said. As usual, he framed his question as a statement. She nodded in response.

  “I thought you might,” he said, and he too reached out to clasp her arm in his own. “Come back to us, Elisa, and bring him with you. We’ll leave a trail.”

  Tredon merely stared, his eyes hollowed and dark. The man seemed to have shrunk in size over the past few days, and Magicless wondered if he was eating. He’d been much subdued since their time with Anet and Freen. Leali kept a distance from them, arms crossed on her chest, clear in her disapproval but saying nothing. Magicless was grateful for that. He didn’t have the energy for another shouting match.

  As simply as that, Elisa turned on her heel and headed back in the direction they’d come. He watched her retreating form until he could see it no longer, and then he watched longer still. She’d bring him back if she could. I’d do the same for Alekka, he thought, glancing over towards her. But it was a cold and hostile place they traveled, and now Elisa traveled alone. Amentis was out there somewhere, hidden in the deep snow and heavily forested landscape around them. The closer they got the more likely it seemed the Dark Wizard would suspect their coming. If he found Elisa first...

  “They’ll make it back.” Alekka whispered.

  “Are you certain?”

  “Absolutely. He’s unbound, Micah. He’ll realize it soon enough, and so will Elisa.” She grinned at him and he could not help himself—he grinned back at her. After a moment they too picked up the endless slog through the snow.

  Despite the effort it took to walk, Magicless felt light at heart for the first time in ages. Jobin was unbound. And he’ll do what’s right, if he’s even half of the man I know. The man I call my friend, he thought as they trudged onwards.

  [ 27 ]

  She awoke. It was still dark, but pale light was staining the sky far to the east with morning sun. She was warm—or at least as warm as you could be when everything was frozen as far as you could see. The snow was especially deep here, and they’d been able to stomp out a high-walled clearing protecting them from the biting wind. The food helped, she knew, both with her maintaining her own body heat but also in helping the mages keep their fires burning through the night. Micah had finally managed to kill a deer yesterday, and they had all feasted that night. She’d gone to her bedroll with a full belly for a change. She watched the sky as it slowly brightened but she stayed huddled, enjoying a brief respite from the rigors of travel.

  Boredom.

  The stories never tell that part of the tale. They are always filled with the gory parts, the fun parts, the battles and heroic acts and sweeping victories. But they always leave out the bits of mind-numbing boredom and grueling physical exhaustion interspersed with moments of absolute terror. There was nothing fun or exciting about slogging through waist-high snow and hoping your fingers and toes don’t freeze off. Nothing fun at all. There was nothing fun about knowing that every step might be one step closer to the last you’d take in this world—that you might be one step closer to losing the people you care about most.

  The going was slow, but they had made steady progress. Micah was positive they were heading in the right direction but Alekka thought it impossible to know for certain. All she could see was deep snow and evergreen trees. Occasionally the clouds would lift and off in the distance mountains were barely visible. Otherwise, the landscape was empty.

  Micah had shown them all where he thought they were the night before on the map. They were approaching what looked like a deep canyonland that dropped to the shores of a vast inland lake. In the center of that lake lay a black-inked star. That star, so clear and small on the map, contained the entirety of the purpose of their journey, the reason for all their sacrifices, and the place where she would meet her fate. Alekka had pondered the same questions over and over as they had stared at the map. What would happen when they got there? Would they beat Amentis? Would they all die? How would she restore balance to the world? Oynnestre was all well and good as a title, but what did it mean, really? She knew it was her destiny, but she had no idea how such a thing would be accomplished and what, in the end, it would cost her. Had she already paid the price with her powers, or were there untold charges yet to be paid? That Anet and Freen had also not known was not reassuring.

  Alekka heard stirring on the far side of the campfire and huddled deeper into her bedroll. In this warm little pocket of the universe she could hide away from the harsh glare of reality and fate and destiny. Such cold words.

  The smell of cooking meat and the loud growling of her belly finally pulled her out of her self-imposed exile. She pushed back her cover and sat up, watching the others as they pushed their bedrolls into their packs, heated water for tea and coffee, and otherwise prepared for the day.

  It was quiet as they moved around the campsite. They were almost always quiet these days, speaking only as needed to make it through the day or to communicate about travel and direction. Tredon had retreated into an even deeper sullen silence after Elisa left. He was still a big man physically, of course, but the rigor of travel and minimal food had hardened muscle and melted every ounce of fat from his frame, leaving him looking more angular and harsh than before. He never looked any of them in the eye anymore—he’d even withdrawn from Ashier. The other man tried valiantly to coax him from his shell but Tredon seemed consumed with some inner battle. Considering the inner battle she was waging with herself at the moment, she couldn’t find it in her to fault him.

  Leali alone seemed to have the same fire in her as the day they left. Her desire for revenge was untarnished and undiminished. Her eyes burned bright with a feverish light each day, as if the cold gave her strength instead of sapped it. Her fervor made Alekka feel uncomfortable—she was concerned the woman had perhaps lost her mind a little in her thirst for delivering the Dark Wizard his doom. But she was typically the one pushing them to get moving in the mornings now, and kept them moving far later into the day than they would have if they were left to their own devices. Alekka wondered if they would simply have given up by now if it were not for Leali driving them forward. We all have a role to play, she thought, her own words echoing back to her.

  As for Micah, he was grim and uncertain around her. He knew she was hiding things from him, and seeing the betrayal in his eyes twisted her insides. She wished it could have been different between them. Wished none of this had ever happened, that Amentis had never happened, and that she and Micah could have fallen
in love in Aclay and lived normal lives. She could not tell him what she suspected or he would feel forced to do something about it. He’d try to stop her in some way, and she could not let that happen. She must meet her fate.

  They ate breakfast, stuffing their faces with as much venison as they could fit into their stomachs. There was no discussion about rationing. They were close to their destination now, days away, and their strength was more important than ensuring they had enough food to last on the journey back. There had been no signs of the Dark Wizard, but they had no idea if he’d used this time to set a trap for them, or if he’d choose to attack them on his own terrain where he was strongest. If he knew anything, he’d know that they’d travelled far, and would be weakened now. It was a good time to strike.

  Still, she thought as they shuffled forward through the snow, just as they’d done day in and day out for who knew how long, maybe he knows nothing. Maybe Noz resisted and kept their secret. Alekka’s heart ached for the Map Maker. Either way, they had no way of knowing, so they took each day as it was without thought for anything more. Within the next few days they would know their fate, and with it the fate of all of Dorine Lillith.

  Toward the middle of the afternoon the landscape began to change. The green needle-leafed trees gave way to wind-shaped scrub and short trees whose branches all reached in the same direction. The snow began to lesson, and soon she could see rocks jutting up out of the whiteness surrounding them. Shortly after the change in terrain they began descending into deep canyonlands scattered with uniquely shaped rocks and rust-red stone.

  There was less snow, which Alekka was grateful for, but she was surprised and dismayed to realize it also became increasingly cold as they dropped down into the canyon. She’d not thought it was possible to function in weather colder than what they’d already been moving through, but she had been very wrong. Soon she almost missed the snow—the struggle of moving through it had generated a lot of body heat. Now, walking was easy with the light dusting of snow and a steady decline, but she felt her muscles stiffening with cold and could not suppress the shivering that wracked her body.