The Seven Signs: Three Book Collection

by D. W. Hawkins

  “I think I know what's happening now,” Dormael said as he sat down on Shawna's other side.

  “Took you long enough, we've been on the road for days,” D'Jenn smiled.

  “I mean with the armlet. And Bethany,” Dormael said. He felt Shawna stiffen beside him, and D'Jenn's blue eyes narrowed as he leaned out to get a look at him.

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  Dormael took a deep breath. “Shawna's been carrying the armlet around for awhile. She lived with it for practically her entire life, and never a peep out of the thing.”

  “Well, it did give me an odd feeling,” Shawna said, “but no dreams, or weird stunts with the fire.”

  Dormael nodded. “But I can hear the thing whenever it decides to sing. D'Jenn can to a lesser degree, and now...Bethany.”

  D'Jenn narrowed his eyes and rocked back in realization. “I think I see where you're going with this. It would explain a few things.”

  “What would explain a few things?” Shawna asked.

  “Bethany,” Dormael said. “She's got the spark. She's Blessed.”

  Dormael could almost see the color draining from Shawna's face. “How can you know?”

  “She could feel the magic, back at the cabin we found,” D'Jenn nodded, favoring the sleeping girl with a considering glance. “She mentioned something about it that perked my ears up, but I dismissed it at the time.”

  “And the armlet only seems to reach out to wizards,” Dormael pointed out. “Me, then D'Jenn, and now Bethany. Also, there are the dreams.” Dormael filled D'Jenn and Shawna in on what he had dreamed the night before—the ancient grotto, the ivy, all of it.

  D'Jenn nodded. “If she has the gift, but has an untrained mind, then her defenses against the armlet’s intrusion would be nonexistent. It could just reach out to her whenever it wanted.”

  The three of them shared a grim look at the thought.

  “What do we do?” Shawna asked. “We can't let anything happen to her.”

  “Agreed,” Dormael nodded. “There's little we can do, though.”

  “We'll have to test her, verify that she's Blessed. After that,” D'Jenn shrugged, “we'll have to start training her. It's the only thing to do.”

  Dormael nodded and let out a deep breath. “Let's not tell her until tonight when we make camp. We'll test her then, and explain to her what it means. We'll need quiet to conduct the test, and to put her at ease.”

  “How do you test her?” Shawna asked.

  “You'll see,” D'Jenn said in response. The tea was done, and he doled out a few portions to end the conversation.

  Shawna shot odd glances at Bethany throughout the day, and smiled at the girl a little too widely when she was caught. Dormael almost told the woman to avoid them for the rest of the day, but he didn't want to further add to the confusion. Bethany was beginning to regard Shawna as if the woman had gone mad, and he didn't want to clue her in to what was going on.

  They were lucky enough to find another copse of trees that night, though the growth along the highland hills was getting sparser as they traveled north. This grove would do nothing to hide their fire, and little to break the wind, but it was better than camping out in the middle of the snow-covered ground. Once they had eaten and finished with lessons, Dormael wrapped Bethany in her blanket and took a seat on the ground across from her.

  “Now,” he said as D'Jenn and Shawna settled down nearby, “we're going to do one more thing before bedtime tonight.”

  “More lessons?” Bethany asked with a dubious look on her face.

  “A game,” Dormael smiled. “One that D'Jenn and I used to play when we were children.”

  “Alright,” Bethany smiled. “What are the rules?”

  “First, you have to close your eyes,” D'Jenn said.

  Bethany humored him, the ghost of a smile flickering over her mouth. “Alright.”

  “Now, I want you to silence your mind,” Dormael said, taking on a quiet tone.

  “How do I do that?” Bethany asked.

  “Just listen to all the things going on in your head,” D'Jenn said. “Chase them down one by one and tell them to be quiet. It might take some time, but you can do it.”

  “If you say so,” Bethany muttered. Her face made a few scrunching movements as she sat there, but D'Jenn began to tap out a rhythm on the stump next to him, and soon the girl was swaying in time with the beat. Dormael let the silence stretch before speaking again.

  “I want you to imagine a pool,” he intoned. “A pool deep inside your chest. Can you picture that for me?”

  “I think so,” Bethany sighed.

  “Good. The pool has clear, still water inside. The water is warm, it's deep, and it's comforting. Just sink into the pool very slowly until the water is covering your face,” Dormael said.

  “Alright,” Bethany sighed again. D'Jenn's tapping continued, and Bethany swayed with it.

  “Now, deep in the water, you can't hear anything. All the sounds from your ears just fade away, one by one, until you can hear nothing. Just let them go, Bethany. Sink down until the water is the only thing you can hear,” Dormael said.

  Bethany did not reply.

  Dormael gave the girl another few minutes to clear her mind, then continued in his droning, hypnotic tone. “You're deep in the pool, now. Way down deep where nothing can get to you. Nothing can hurt you. You can't see anything, or hear anything, right?”

  “Right,” Bethany whispered.

  “Are you sure, dear? Listen harder. Listen deeper than you ever have before.”

  Bethany sat there for a few moments, swaying in time with D'Jenn's tapping. A long period of silence stretched out, and Dormael was growing impatient. It wasn't unheard of for a Blessed to fail to reach their Kai the first few times they tried. Coaxing out a wizard's magic could be difficult, and most children learned an instinctive way of reaching their power before being walked through the Conclave's method. Just as he was about to bring her out of the trance, though, she spoke.

  “Wait,” she whispered. “Wait.”

  “What is it?” Dormael asked.

  “I...I can hear something,” she said. Her brows drew together in a frown, and she tilted her head as if listening to a sound from very far away. “I can almost reach it.”

  “Just let it come to you, dear. Listen to it, and let it—”

  Before he could finish his sentence, Bethany's power awakened.

  She let out a long gasp, and suddenly Dormael felt as if a thousand insects were crawling over his skin. He resisted the urge to scratch as he shot a surprised glance to D'Jenn. His cousin favored him with an incredulous stare.

  Bethany's power was immense. All wizards had a natural capacity for how much magic they could throw around. As far as anyone understood, it was the one thing that was determined by birth, and each wizard was different. Dormael was known at the Conclave for being among the strongest wizards of his generation. His power was vast, and he'd always felt lucky in that regard.

  Bethany's magic, though, was more than half again as strong as his own.

  “It's...what is it?” Bethany asked.

  “Open your eyes, dear,” D'Jenn said.

  Bethany obeyed him, and as soon as she opened her eyes, they grew wide with delight.

  “What is this?” she asked, her eyes shooting all over the campsite. She looked to Shawna and smiled in wonder. “Your hair...it's really pretty. I never noticed before.”

  Shawna let out a confused laugh. “Thank you, little one.”

  “Why does the snow not sing like this all the time?” Bethany asked, her eyes going out to the darkness beyond the firelight.

  “It does,” Dormael laughed. “You're just not always listening.”

  “You're a wizard, squirt,” D'Jenn smiled. “You're one of us—like Dormael and I.”

  “That sound you hear is magic,” Dormael nodded.

  “How did you know?” Bethany asked, still gazing around in wonder.

  “There
were clues,” Dormael shrugged. “We're good at this sort of thing, remember? Now, I want you to listen again.” He opened his own Kai, and let his song ring out through the night. “Can you hear that?”

  Bethany nodded. “What is it?”

  “That's me,” Dormael smiled. “That's the sound of my magic. That's my Kai.”

  “And this,” D'Jenn said, awakening his own power, “is mine.”

  Bethany laughed as if she'd just been given a new toy. “I like mine better.”

  Dormael smiled at the girl's joy. He remembered what it had been like the first time he had learned to listen to magic, to see the world through the eyes of a wizard. The light would dance across one's vision instead of passing it. The moonlight almost had a taste to it, and the wind could tell a story. Experiencing reality through magical eyes was something wondrous. The world would suddenly be a place full of wonder for her, and Dormael felt his heartstrings tug every time the girl tittered over the things she saw.

  “Alright,” D'Jenn said, breaking the spell. “Now that you know how to open your Kai, you must learn to close it.”

  “Sink back into the pool,” Dormael said, “and I'll show you how to—”

  “Wait,” Bethany laughed. “Whose song is that?”

  That's when Dormael noticed it. Hovering about the fringes of the campsite was another song—an alien, silvery song. It whispered through the night and reached toward them before Dormael could do anything to stop it.

  “Bethany, wait, don't reach for that song!” he said, but it was too late.

  The armlet whipped out and latched onto Bethany's magic.

  Several things happened at once. A bright, orange light filled the campsite. Dormael turned his attention to Bethany, who now sat wide-eyed with tears starting to leak down her face. He could hear the song of the armlet entwined with Bethany's vast power, like a parent holding an errant child by the arm. He summoned his magic and tried to force his way into the link, but it was like trying to climb against the weight of a waterfall. He could hear D'Jenn's song working at something, but his entire concentration was given over to the fight.

  He broke through, and lent some of his own magic to Bethany. Shouldering into the link was a dangerous thing, but Bethany was untrained, and had no tools to fight off the oppressive presence of the armlet. Dormael seized the flow of power and took control.

  Images skittered across the surface of his mind, but he fought hard to hold them back. He concentrated on the core of himself, on his Kai and the sound of his magic, and forced the song of the armlet back from the link with Bethany's power. He looked to her as he worked, trying to convey a sense of safety to her, but the girl was looking right through him. Dormael felt a chill as he saw her eyes—now dilated to their limit, swirling with bright orange and yellow, like holes sucking in molten rock.

  Her body began to shake, and she rose from the earth, floating upward as if the ground were giving up its hold on her. Shawna screamed as the girl began to levitate, and Dormael had to keep himself from echoing her alarm. He had never seen anything like this before.

  Dormael turned his eyes to Shawna, who stared transfixed at the bright light behind them. He looked to see what she was gaping at, still fighting against the song of the armlet. He nearly lost his concentration at what he saw.

  The fire had just frozen in place. There was still heat coming from it, and the fire still burned, but it did not move. It was as if something had come along and frozen time itself. He realized all of a sudden that the fire had not grown brighter, it had simply stopped flickering.

  He felt D'Jenn's song join its power to his, and he redoubled his efforts to fight the armlet away. He drew on Bethany's vast power and concentrated all of their magic into shielding the girl from the song of the armlet. Dormael wasn't sure it would work, but he felt as if the armlet's hold was loosening. Finally, with a feeling like a great rush of breath, it let go.

  Bethany hit the ground and fell over on her side, her magic winking out in an instant. She started to cry, and Dormael made to embrace her, but the girl was too fast. Bethany scrambled to her feet and ran out into the night, her sobs echoing as she disappeared into the snow.

  “Gods!” Dormael cursed.

  “Go after her, I'll deal with the armlet!” D'Jenn said.

  Dormael dragged himself to his feet, and ran into the night after Bethany.

  She had a head start on him, but he followed her trail well enough. She had blasted snow aside in her mad scramble, and left a wide path of destruction in her wake. Still, the girl was fleet of foot to have gotten so far in such a short amount of time. He followed her trail through the cold, driving wind.

  He found her a good distance on the other side of the road.

  She sat on a low stone that stood alone on the white expanse of snow. Her back was to him, but he could hear her sobs echoing over the sound of the wind—or perhaps the wind was bringing the sound to him. He could see the sea beyond the cliffs reflecting the moonlight, dancing flickers of silver. Dormael could hear little except the wind, the crash of the waves below, and Bethany's sobs.

  He walked up and sat down before the girl could protest, and put an arm around her. She resisted at first, but he held her tightly against his side until she stopped moving. She settled against him and cried into his cloak until her fit subsided.

  “I'm sorry that happened to you,” he said, unsure of how to start. “It isn't always like that.”

  “It's not?” she asked.

  “Well, it's never like that, really,” Dormael smiled. “That was the armlet's doing. You know that, though, don't you?”

  She nodded.

  “We didn't know it would do that,” Dormael said. “We didn't know it would reach out that way. I'm sorry. It's our fault.”

  “I'm not angry,” Bethany sighed. “I was just scared.”

  “It's alright to be scared,” Dormael said. “Scared is what keeps you alive, sometimes.”

  “It is?”

  “That's right. You can't be brave unless you're scared first. It's how you deal with it that matters.”

  “How do you deal with it?”

  Dormael smiled and leaned in close, as if to tell the girl a secret. “I swallow it.”

  She gave him a disbelieving look. “You do not.”

  “I do,” Dormael winked. “I swallow it all down until it goes into my stomach. Fear can't come out of your stomach—everybody knows that.”

  “You're just making things up,” Bethany said, but a smile cracked her face.

  “Would I do something like that?”

  “Oh, yes,” Bethany smiled. “Shawna said never to trust a word that comes out of your mouth.”

  “Who are you going to believe, though? Shawna changed her hair color. You can't trust anyone who changes their hair color,” he smiled.

  He'd have to ask Shawna about that later.

  “Can you use magic to change your hair?” Bethany asked. “I want red hair like Shawna, before she changed it to black.”

  Dormael smiled and mussed the girl's brown locks. “You can. If you come back to camp, we'll teach you to use magic. You can do it yourself one day.”

  Bethany's eyes widened. “You're going to teach me?”

  “Of course,” Dormael smiled, unable to keep a laugh from sneaking into his words. “Did you think we'd just let you go on without teaching you?”

  “I don't know,” Bethany mumbled. “No one's ever taught me anything.”

  Dormael wondered for the hundredth time about Bethany's story. He almost asked her, almost pressed the issue, but he decided to let it lie. The girl had been through enough trauma for one night, and Dormael didn't feel like prying into her past.

  “Well,” he said, rising from the stone, “that's going to change. Come on, dear. Let's get out of this wind.”

  “This is all very touching,” said a deep voice from behind them, “but you won't be going anywhere just yet.”

  Dormael spun, putting an arm out to hold Be
thany behind him. Four men stood in the darkness, outlined by the moonlight. Dormael cursed his folly at not hearing the men approach. The sound of the wind and the of the sea below may have drowned them out, but if he had not been so concentrated on Bethany, he might have sensed them.

  One of the men—a large fellow with two blonde braids sticking out of his head—stood out in front. The other three held crossbows on the two of them, drawn and ready to loose. Dormael could see the steel tips of the bolts reflect the moonlight as they were levered at him and Bethany.

  “If the savage moves,” said the large man in front, “shoot the girl first.”

  Inconvenient Enemies

  The bastards, Dormael thought, gritting his teeth.

  He awakened his Kai, drawing the night into clear focus as his magic heightened his senses. He shot his eyes around at the four men, wondering who in the gods’ names they were. The massive brute standing out front was from Dannon—the land to the north of Cambrell. Dormael was sure that Dannons came in all varieties, but every one of them he'd ever met had been hateful, violent, and dangerous. Dannon was snowy tundra on one side, steppe on the other, and full of warring clans that ceased bloodshed only for religious festivals. The King of Dannon ruled by virtue of strength and brutality—something ingrained into the roots of their society.

  The rest of the men, though, looked Cambrellian to Dormael. They were tough, sinewy types, and had a hard look to them that told Dormael they’d have no problem with filling Bethany full of crossbow bolts. All of the men wore leather and fur, though they didn't have the look of highwaymen about them. The Dannon that spoke for them, in fact, was clean-shaven.

  “Hurt the girl,” Dormael growled, “and you die.”

  “I told you we should have shot the Sevenlander from back there,” said one of the Cambrellians. “They've all got sorcery in them. I told you, dammit!”

  “Regan,” said the Dannon, keeping his eyes on Dormael, “if you piss yourself out loud again, I'll put a sword in your guts when this is over.”