To Cast the First Spell

by John Buttrick

  Tarin Conn stood and walked half way down the steps before coming to a stop, an action rarely taken by him. “I sense change, like a great force has been…,” he hesitated, as if searching for the appropriate word. “Awakened,” he finally said, and then fixed his black eyes into a steady stare. “My prison prevents me from learning more. Find out what has happened.”

  The command was obscure to be sure for many things were going on in the world, which did the Supreme Maestro want investigated? Balen thought of the unusual event on Tannakonna, although he had not intended to bring up the incident so soon. He wanted to know more about it first. This was the one person he knew would not be fooled by a lie, but it might be possible to temporarily avoid the issue. “Supreme Maestro, there are many changes going on in the world every day. By your command, I’ll investigate all unusual incidents and give you a detailed report,” he said, hoping the answer would be sufficient for this audience.

  “You already have an inkling of the change,” Tarin Conn said, smiling. “I know you, my pupil. The matter is being investigated even now.”

  Balen quickly closed his slack jaw and fought to keep his composure. “I, I Don’t know enough to report,” he blurted, knowing the Supreme Maestro was impossible to out maneuver. The attempt had been foolish and futile.

  “True, otherwise you surely would have told me. Guidance will be required and who else but I could provide you with the necessary council?” Tarin Conn replied.

  “None but you,” Balen answered quickly. Cenni Quen, do not fail. Concern grew over the spell and the Accomplished sent to investigate it. “I should know more tomorrow.”

  “The occurrence has changed the balance of power that much I can sense from here” Tarin Conn said, and his smile vanished. “We must see to it the shift is in our favor.”

  “Without a doubt, it shall be in our favor. I won’t allow it to be otherwise,” Balen replied, feeling confident he could make good the boast. Whoever worked the spell would serve willingly or as a Condemned, either way the Serpent Guild benefits.

  “Expect a visit from me in your next sleep. For now, continue to seek that infernal flute. I want it found and melted in the hottest fire you can summon,” Tarin Conn told him, and then snapped his fingers and appeared back on the crystal throne.

  Balen knew this subject would come up. “We are vigilant in our quest for the flute of Della Lain. It has been lost for centuries; the blighted thing could be in Aakadon for all I know. Every follower I send there is captured,” he said, frustrated. The confounded flute was the only thing maintaining the spell holding Tarin Conn in prison. “We continue the search for your trumpet as well.”

  “Very good,” Tarin Conn said with a sardonic grin. “Keep up the excellent work. The trumpet will enhance your power greatly.”

  Balen walked up the steps and knelt before his master. Light filtered through the prisms and bathed the floor in vivid rainbow colors. The Supreme Maestro must be freed so the world can gaze upon his glory, Balen thought. Could the cursed spell be weakened by the trumpet? What melodious spell would do the job? “Great Master, teach me the spell that will free you.”

  Tarin Conn fixed his smoldering stare on Balen. The tumultuous moment passed and the countenance of the ancient Accomplished was once again that of a composed monarch. “The spell does not exist as yet.”

  Balen sprang to his feet; anger had him on the verge of disaster. He tried to mask his emotions behind reverence. “If there is no such spell to weaken the shield, why bother searching for the trumpet?” he asked with as much humility as he could manage.

  “Do not question the will of Tarin Conn!” the Supreme Maestro shouted.

  Balen flinched back as if he had been struck in the face and bowed until his chin was a mere finger width from the floor and his own startled reflection stared back at him. Perspiration dripped from his brow and distorted the image below. “Forgive me, Great Maestro,” he begged, and then waited in silence for a positive response. He could hear the Supreme Maestro rising from the throne.

  “You are forgiven,” Tarin Conn said, and the sound of his footsteps came closer. “I intend to be free one way or the other,” he said in a calm voice. “It took me centuries to gain the ability to touch the sleeping minds of people above my prison,” he added, his voice gaining intensity. “Two additional centuries passed before I could enter their dreams wherever they went. I will be free or the entire world shall be blighted!”

  Balen sprang to his feet and shouted with all his heart, “Freedom be to Tarin Conn!”

  Chapter Six: A Secret No More

  Daniel tossed and turned all night. What little sleep he managed to get had been shallow. Most of his time had been spent staring up at the rafters. A chill in the air made him shiver and he wrapped the blanket around him tighter. He was lying around worrying and accomplishing nothing. His stomach growled, providing him with an alternative, get up and fix something to eat. The sun would be up and in its full glory soon. He dressed and went outside wondering what worries the new day would bring.

  Dawn came and the sun warmed Tannakonna nicely, brightening Daniel’s mood on the way to the chicken coop. Wiseone hooted from the branch of a young pine. The old owl seemed to prefer that particular vantage point after a night of hunting. The feathered predator and his friends were helpful in keeping the rodent population under control, which meant the sharp-eyed bird was always welcome at the Benhannon homestead.

  Daniel went inside the sturdy old coop, collected eggs, and placed them in a small brown basket. He gathered enough to make breakfast for his father and mother as well and headed back to the cottage. Wiseone lighted from the branch and dived low, and then flew off with a tiny creature squirming in his talons, leaving one less rat to worry about.

  Daniel entered the kitchen and placed the basket on the counter top, and then played the spell, Sheet of Wind, in his mind. A soft glow formed around him and he focused the potential of the low power spell. A sheet of air formed and lifted the middle pan off the hook on the wall above the sink and then lowered it to the stovetop.

  He levitated eggs, milk, flour, butter, and a little sugar into the pan and mixed them together. He thought of, Sparking the Flame, focused on the stove, and a fire ignited. He placed the griddle on the surface, poured in the batter, and then chuckled with delight while flipping pancakes using the spell, Sheet of wind. He finished preparing breakfast and smothered the fire using a shield spell called; Cover Me, which was not originally intended for that purpose. So what? It cut off air and killed the flames; the result was all he cared about.

  He concentrated, floating three plates along with knives and forks over to the table and lowered them gently to the surface. Breakfast was ready. He smiled. Spell casting made work so much easier. His father often told him that with every blessing comes a responsibility and the saying seemed to apply accurately to his current circumstances. His merriment faded the more he thought about what being an Aakacarn meant, how it would change the simple life he had hoped to have, a life that was now looking more and more complicated by the day.

  His mouth felt as dry as a dust pan. A little water would hit the spot, both for himself and his parents. He levitated three large glasses down from the shelf above the sink and then used the spell, Spout a Leak. Water flowed and filled each glass as he willed them to pass under the spout. It was pleasant drawing water without having to pump. He took a sip from his glass and then levitated all three glasses to the table.

  He sat down and thought about all he had done, preparing breakfast the Aakacarn way, and becoming more like them with each passing day. “I am one,” he whispered. He had been freely casting spells in rapid succession, and that troubled him. What if he was to slip up in the future and cast a spell right in front of someone? “Wouldn’t you be in a fine pickle then,” he said, under his breath. He sat staring at his stack of pancakes, which were leaning slightly to the right.

  He began eating, chewing slowly while his parents emerged fro
m their bedroom. They were bright-eyed and seemingly well rested. He, on the other hand, had not slept much at all, thanks to Terroll. The older Accomplished’s warning about terrible things being drawn to Tannakonna was not to be taken lightly. The man knew what he was talking about, unlike Orin Netless who rambled and raged over matters in which he knew little.

  “How nice, you made breakfast,” his mother remarked, as she came and sat down at the table. “Thank you.”

  His father lowered himself onto the chair and grinned at the stack before him. “Yes, how thoughtful,” he said, and then picked up his fork.

  “You’re welcome,” Daniel replied, while trying to put Terroll’s warning out of his mind. He forced a smile. “I thought you might enjoy it.”

  “You seem troubled,” his father said, and then took another bite of food.

  Daniel hesitated to explain, considering how they reacted every time he mentioned his being an Aakacarn.

  “Are you well?” his mother asked, and leaned forward, touching his forehead. “No fever.”

  Daniel wondered if he should tell them about the warning or if they were better off not knowing, what they already knew was bad enough. He cleared his throat. “I was thinking about, you know, the changes in me.”

  His father took a bite of pancake and then washed it down with water. He glanced at the sink, eyeing it suspiciously. He could not know the water was drawn through spell casting. The master carpenter would be surprised to learn his entire meal had been made in the same way. He shook his head after drawing some conclusion. “Listen son, we can get through this crisis,” he said, soothingly, behaving like they were discussing an illness.

  “Do you think the lessons are good enough to prevent any accidental spells?” his mother asked. She took a bite of food while looking him straight in the eye.

  Enough? Daniel almost laughed. Fire and wind, I am a six-bolt Accomplished. He decided his answer would need to be more subtle. “Yes, Terroll Barnes is a good teacher,” and now for the news you have been waiting to hear, “My final lesson was last night. Hopefully, we can keep all of this Aakacarn business a secret.”

  Both parents let out a sigh of relief. His father seemed happier than a bear in a salmon stream. “Good, maybe we can get back to a normal life,” the carpenter said, and then glanced at the sink again. “By the way, how did you prime the well? I accidentally kicked over the bucket last night.”

  Daniel winced. He had not even noticed the bucket was empty. He could lie and say he brought water up from the stream but that would lead to another lie about why the bucket was still empty. He was acting more and more like an Aakacarn. “I cast a spell.”

  “Ough!” his mother cried out. A thin line of blood appeared on her hand where the knife she had been holding dropped. She sprang to her feet while applying pressure to the injury.

  Daniel rushed from his chair and grabbed her hand while thinking of the spell, Mending the Scratch. The power flowed through him, he gently touched the wound, and the cut vanished without a trace of ever having been there.

  “Daniel!” his father shouted, while staring at the completely healed hand. “You can’t use the power,” he added in a softer tone, although not by much.

  “He’s right. Thanks for the healing but please don’t do it again,” his mother said. “I’m afraid to think of what might happen if anyone else sees you casting spells.”

  Daniel fumed inside, what was so wrong about healing an injury, especially his mother’s? Nobody tells the lion not to hunt or the bear not to hibernate. Except, the lion and the bear are not Aakacarns. “I will try,” he replied, calming himself, knowing he could promise nothing more.

  The front door flew open, slamming against the wall with a loud clap. Chad Grening rushed inside, his black wavy hair was matted down with perspiration. He stood panting in the greeting room, trying to catch his breath. A thick beard hid most of his round face and his brown-dyed buckskins were soiled with dirt and sweat.

  “Fire and wind, Chad, what’s the matter?” asked Ronn. He sprang to his feet and was beside the horrified man within three strides. What could frighten a ham fisted fellow like him?

  Chad wiped the sweat from his forehead and calmed himself somewhat, at least to the point he could finally speak. ”Yetis have been seen in the woods around the village,” he said, and shuddered.

  “That’s ridicules,” Ronn said, shaking his head as if listening to the ramblings of a drunken Teki.

  “No, this is for real,” Chad insisted. His deep voice carried a no nonsense tone.

  “Chad Grening, have you been listening to Orin Netless again?” Miriam asked, as if he was forty years younger and in need of having his nose wiped. “That man is always trying to give decent folk a scare.”

  Chad frowned, clearly not appreciating the tone or reception his news was receiving. “There isn’t much time. We must hurry. Everyone is gathering in the village, strength in numbers and all that,” he said, growing more agitated and starting for the door. He sighed when no one followed. “Shaggy white creatures standing over nine cubits high were seen approaching from the Dukane spread. More of them have been spotted since Rod and his family ran into Bashierwood with the warning. Call the beasts whatever you want, the threat is real.”

  Terroll was right, Daniel groaned. He had brought the yetis down upon everyone. “We better get to the village.”

  Ronn grabbed his longbow and a quiver of arrows. “Move quickly or we may end up facing them alone.”

  Daniel grabbed his bow and arrows and came to an abrupt halt as the realty struck him. The beasts were here because of him, maybe he should stay behind.

  “Move!” his father shouted. Ronn and Chad were the only ones heading outside.

  Miriam stood still as if she had not quite accepted Chad’s story. Daniel took her hand. “Come on, we have to go,” he told her, making up his own mind as well. She glanced toward the half eaten breakfast and hesitated. “Cleaning up can wait,” he said, and then guided her outside.

  The sun was bright in the azure blue sky. A cool breeze caressed dangling leaves and whispered softly through the green needles. Such a wonderful day should not have walking nightmares in it. Daniel ran swiftly, careful to keep his mother ahead of him. Chad sprinted up the trail, leading the way, not that anyone needed to be shown where to go. The man was frightened and it was a mark of his courage that he even came out to give warning.

  The fork was just a few strides ahead. Daniel eyed the trees and bushes in the same way he did when tracking a mountain lion. The yetis could be anywhere along the way. He caught a glimpse of white off the trail to the left and that was the only warning. The beast charged with a roar, coming from a face that reminded him of dried boot leather.

  He notched an arrow and let it fly. The missile sailed straight and true and the screaming yeti fell forward with a shaft protruding from its heart.

  “Keep moving!” Chad shouted, as if anyone truly needed more encouragement to do so.

  Daniel caught up quickly to the others and the village was in sight, so also were yetis converging from the surrounding woods. One beast was a little too close for comfort, and would be upon them way before they reached safety. His parents and Chad deserved to live. With that thought, Daniel stopped and took aim, and then sent a shaft sailing into the charging beast. The hairy biped tried vainly to pull the arrow from its chest before falling to the ground and being trampled by two other yetis.

  His parents were almost to the village and all he had to do was buy them a few moments more. He notched two arrows, holding the bow sideways, and then let fly. One yeti fell dead in its tracks and another was only wounded and running forward with a shaft sticking from the right side of its chest, it was as least slowed down. More importantly, Daniel’s parents and Chad Grening were safely in the village.

  Daniel ran full out. “Last one there is a hound pup!” he shouted.

  The sound of more than a score of screaming yetis served notice the challenge had been
accepted. They especially liked dog meat, or so legend had it. Whether or not the beasts understood him, they were coming fast.

  Daniel could see fifteen archers standing on a wall of crates in defense of the north side. A volley of arrows shot over his head and arched downward. By the screams coming from behind, their aim had been accurate. He wasted no time looking back, concentrating only on the barricade and the distance he still had to clear.

  “Run, Daniel, run!” shouted Tim from his position on the wall of crates.

  Val suddenly appeared on the crates. “Hurry!” she screamed, and was then pulled away by her sister.

  Daniel leaped into the air, caught a grip on the top of the barricade, and then scrambled the rest of the way over. The archers shot off another volley while he sat trying to catch his breath. People came and patted him on the back as if he had done something great.

  “What was that you shouted back there?” Tim asked, from his position above. “It sounded like hound pup.”

  Daniel glanced at his friend. “You heard right. I’m not a hound pup,” he said, without smiling, levity was a little beyond him at the moment.

  Hough Bess made his way over and stood with a scowl on his puffy face. His bushy sideburns stopped short of being considered a beard. His light blue-dyed buckskins were clean and unstained. “Are you fit to man the wall?” he asked, as if he was in charge. In point of fact, he was, being mayor.

  “Certainly,” Daniel replied, and held up his bow. “Where do you want me?”

  Hough pointed to an unoccupied place on the barricade. “There,” he said, and then went back to his own position.

  Daniel climbed up on the crates as the fierce cries of the ravenous yetis grew louder and seemed to come from all directions at once. He notched an arrow and waited for the order to shoot. Each person took aim and drew back, all were excellent archers.

  Yetis charged from the forest, streaming out from behind trees, hundreds of them. Daniel had trouble believing his eyes. This was not just a few beasts; he had brought an entire colony down on the village. The front row was well within rang, why was Hough delaying the order to shoot?