To Cast the First Spell

by John Buttrick

  He urged Sprinter into a full gallop, shooting past tree branches that threatened to knock him out of the saddle if he was not careful. A cloud of dust followed behind. Ahead was the sandy trail. He thought of the yetis and summoned potential for fire. An old folk song his mother taught him came to mind, What’s Cooking Mama? He smiled; no, not a pleasant smile, a very very mean one.

  A huge white creature fell from the tree directly in Sprinter’s path. It roared and ran forward on broad flat feet, its long hairy arms out stretched with sharp pointed claws, longing for a deadly embrace. A fierce roar revealed yellow rows of sharp pointed teeth meant for ripping and tearing.

  Sprinter reared up on his hind legs. Daniel held on tight with one hand and with the other aimed and focused. Blue beams of light, at a level only the eyes of an Aakacarn could see, shot from his fingertips. Where the beams intersected, flame ignited and streaked out engulfing the charging yeti with heat so intense sand melted to glass where the thrashing beast fell.

  He heeled Sprinter’s flanks and the stallion leaped over the burning mass and galloped onward. The survival of the village depended on him reaching the cottage. He needed the guitarn. The fork came into view. A dead yeti with an arrow buried deep in its hairy blood matted chest lie only a few strides from where he had killed it. Large well fed flies buzzed and scattered as the stallion leaped the still corpse. His home looked to be a tiny point in the distance.

  A yeti swung off a high branch and flew toward what it likely thought would be an easy kill. Daniel caught the beast in a cushion of air and flung it fifty cubits off the trail and head first into a pine. The yeti staggered to its feet and charged back for another confrontation. He bathed the foolish creature in flames and continued onward.

  Reaching the cottage, he sprang from Sprinter’s back, and ran inside. The yetis had not entered, he was happy about that. Everything remained exactly how it had been during breakfast, which now seemed to take place a long time ago. Flies landed and took off from the half eaten pancakes they had been sharing with tiny black ants. He went to the sink and cast, Spout a Leak. Water flowed into the basin. He drank four cups of water, and then filled two canteens and strapped them to his belt. Running into the bedroom, he grabbed the guitarn, and then paused to take one last heartfelt look at the room he would never occupy again.

  A whinny followed by a loud roar served notice it was past time to go. Daniel rushed out the front door and into the yard where three yetis were closing in on Sprinter. The first creature was too near the stallion for flame throwing. Daniel wrapped the animal in a cushion of air and flung it into the second creature and then torched them both. The remaining yeti ran back into the woods.

  Daniel calmed his equine gift from Donald Laird and then swung up in the saddle, urging Sprinter up the trail toward his cabin and then beyond the great pine. An unnatural silence settled over the forest. His senses were on full alert. A yeti sprang from a clump of bushes with claws out stretched and teeth ready to chew on raw meat, seconds later it was sizzling on the ground well done.

  He heeled Sprinter and charged up the winding trail. The wild cries of yetis came from every direction, no doubt communicating his presence to one another. He reined the stallion to a halt at the barren rock face known to all on Tannakonna as Binkman’s cliff, so named after Samuel Binkman who ran blindly through the night and fell down the one hundred cubit drop to the stone floor below.

  Daniel stared over the edge. Smoke drifted up like a billowing storm cloud from the battered and burning village. He was glad to see they were not under attack, which meant his plan had a chance of succeeding. He turned Sprinter, facing the forest and rode three horse lengths from the drop, ready to make his stand. The nearest tree stood thirty strides away, allowing plenty of time for him to burn charging yetis. Nothing could approach from his flank. He was acutely aware that one false move would send him and Sprinter to their deaths.

  He could tell by the bellowing roars the yetis were getting closer and could feel the hair on the back of his neck rising. There was no longer any doubt the yetis had been directed to Tannakonna because of him, why else would so many of them ignore a village that is practically defenseless just to attack one person? A few beasts, maybe, but not the amount apparently headed his way.

  A horde of yetis burst from the woods, moving with surprising speed for creatures having such tremendous bulk. There had to be at least a score of them running at him with even more emerging behind them.

  He met the foul beasts with a wall of fire and then coughed and gagged at the pungent odor of burning hair and boiling blood. His stomach heaved and for a few precious moments he had to fight nausea. This was no time to be sick; a yeti could rip him to shreds in a vulnerable moment. He fought on, longing for a drop of water to enter his parched throat, but the beasts kept coming and would not allow time for a sip. The fire Melody played over and over again in his mind, maintaining the crucial potential for the spell. Twin jets of fire streaked out across the short distance between he and the white monsters trying to dig their claws into him.

  Sprinter danced nervously, but had enough sense not to move closer to the cliff. The stallion whinnied a protest against the wild screams of the yetis. Five of the burning beasts refused to die quickly and ran forward while flames seared their flesh. Sprinter snorted and reared up, catching the first creature with a hoof and sending it flying backwards into the other four. The fire did its job on them before they could rise and charge again.

  The roars finally ceased and quiet descended once again on the forest. Not a single yeti appeared from the dense smoke or tried to clear the smoldering mounds of hair, bones, and flesh, only a few strides from the trees. Daniel decided to take advantage of the temporary lull in battle and grabbed his canteen. The cool water felt good flowing over his dried lips and down his throat, making him feel alive and human again. He wiped his mouth and studied the damage. Five yetis lay less than ten strides away and were mostly ashes and bone now. The fire died out having nothing left to feed on other than sand and stone.

  The sun was now a big orange ball hanging halfway below the horizon. The onslaught had lasted all day and darkness was coming a little too quick for comfort. He was not ready to declare victory over the yetis. Hundreds of them were dead, could there be more? He had to know for sure, so went over all the spells Terroll had taught him, yet none of them seemed appropriate for locating yetis. Most of the Melodies of that sort were only good for finding a particular person or lost articles, anything the spell caster had touched at least once.

  If he were to touch the bones of a dead yeti, unpleasant as that might be, he should be able to locate any of them in range of his spell. A Melody emerged from the depths of his soul and he worked it over in his mind, altering the tune until he knew with all of his being it would work. One more requirement had to be met before he summoned the potential.

  He dismounted and walked to the nearest cremated yeti and took a deep breath, steeling his nerves. He knelt on one knee and picked up the blackened skull. The new Melody played in his mind, summoning the potential. He did not need to focus, just allow the energy to flow in all directions. A broad sweep of the mountain would be enough. He concentrated and was able to sense the presence of yetis moving about on Tannakonna. They were everywhere, mostly around the village. That would never do. Their attention needed to be drawn to him, but how? He smiled as an idea formed. What brought them in the first place? “Fire and wind, I’m an air head,” he said, and then released the skull, wiped his hands, and patted Sprinter on the neck. “Yes, a High Power spell, but what kind?” he muttered. The stallion whinnied.

  Casting another memory spell did not seem to suit the situation. Full night descended on Tannakonna and the moon and stars were not providing enough light to see by. Light! Daniel chuckled in spite of the serious mess he was in. A spell of the Sun Guild amplified through a crescendo would do perfectly.

  He swung up in the saddle and played, Brilliant Sphere, on his guitarn
. The topaz glow of his potential illuminated the area, giving the lifeless shapes a more grotesque appearance, something he had not thought possible. He focused the energy seven cubits above his head. A ball of light three cubits across flashed into existence and shined on the mountainside like the dawning of a new day. He could no more stare directly at it then he could the sun. With his ranking and the guitarn as a crescendo, the bright light and the ripple affect were certain to draw the yetis. Brilliant Sphere had been the best choice because it gave off no heat.

  Now for the tricky part, Terroll had never mentioned whether or not it was even possible. Daniel prayed he was not wrong. Yetis were no doubt on the way and a bad choice at this point could cost him and those he loved their lives. He thought of the fire spell while playing, Brilliant Sphere, on his guitarn, no small feat by itself. He had to compartmentalize his mind in order to cast two spells at once. Potential flowed into him and seemed to demand twice as much as any spell he had ever cast. His throat was dry again, worse than before. Casting two spells at the same time was harder than wielding an ax against a tree with one hand while filling a basket of eggs with the other. How long could he maintain both?

  Yetis streamed from the forest with a ferocity that could make skin crawl and set teeth to chattering. The time for wondering was at an end, it was do or die. Daniel sent streaks of flame to greet the advancing beasts. The sphere above dimmed slightly with each jet of fire. His power and concentration had limits and he was definitely pushing them. Still, the light drew the yetis and the flames were hot enough to kill them quickly. The creatures kept coming and he continued to deal out flaming death until silence ruled supreme on the cliff.

  He waited cautiously, looking for signs of movement. Seeing none, he allowed the spells to collapse and then took a long drink of water while watching the trees. The corpses of burning yetis conveniently provided enough light for him to see by. All was quiet except for the crackling of burning fat. Could he have won? It would be better to check before drawing any conclusions. He cast the locate spell, it was not necessary to touch another corpse, once in a lifetime was sufficient and he had no desire to do so again. As the energy field expanded, he could sense the presence of the beasts. Yes, there were more of them to be killed but far fewer than before and none of the beasts were neat the village. Rather, they were moving toward him with great haste.

  Daniel played, Brilliant Sphere, on his guitarn and watched the woods closely as the roars broke the silence and grew louder. Yetis ran out into the open and he collapsed the sphere and bathed them in fire so hot they turned to bone and ash before even hitting the ground. Maintaining two spells at once had been wearisome, this was much more effective, and the fire lit Binkman’s cliff adequately enough for him to target and burn the monsters when the sphere was not shining. More yetis rushed from the woods and he used both hands, sending twin jets of flame out to consume the hideous army. Who is the general? It was an answer to be found later because all he could do presently was continue roasting yetis.

  He fought on until there were no more charging nightmares to eradicate and his throat seemed as dry as the blighted deserts of Ecoppia. He dismounted and patted Sprinter on the flank. “Good boy, you are one brave horse,” he said, and thanked Donald Laird again in his heart.

  Daniel cast his location spell and let out a sigh of relief. There was not a single yeti within the radius of his scan, except the still corpses of those beasts killed in his wrath. He concentrated harder, taking in all of Tannakonna, and found not a trace of the foul beasts tainting the mountain.

  His goal had been accomplished, the village was safe. The only fires in Bashierwood were now coming from lanterns. Daniel could see people, some staring up at the cliff, and some scurrying around like ants on a mound that had been stepped on, repairing the damage done and working to bring their lives back into some semblance of order. They would likely remember this day for generations to come, even if most of their memories had not been enhanced by his first spell. He drank from his canteen and was surprised at how quick it was empty. His thirst was not so easily satisfied this time. He opened the second canteen, gulped down more than half the contents before replacing the cap, and then strapped the precious water container to his belt.

  He watched Bashierwood for a while, not knowing when or if he would see it again. Val hated him and the cabin made for her would stand forever empty, like the void growing within his heart. His parents wanted him back, but they did not understand how much better off they were without him. Tim would not even speak to him, did not even say goodbye. His neighbors feared him, which was saying a lot, mountaineers feared very little. He turned out to be the one thing they all despised, an Aakacarn. He agreed they were all better off without him. He wiped away a tear and refused to allow another to fall. “There’s no use crying over the chicken after the fox has it in his mouth,” his mother used to say. He swung up onto Sprinter and had no idea where to go, north, south, east, west; it did not matter, so long as it led away from home.

  Chapter Seven: The Mountain Glows

  Terroll Barnes took a deep breath and let the cool night air fill his lungs. A leisurely day’s ride had brought him within two days of reaching Aakadon. At this point the trail was wide enough for six horses to ride abreast; the path down from Tannakonna had barely been wide enough for two. On his left were thick bushes and huge boulders. To his right, trees dotted the rolling hillside. Low hanging branches were a constant threat to weary travelers. He was tired and needed rest but had managed to stay in his saddle. Stopping was unacceptable. He was driven by thoughts of the past drifting up to the surface of his consciousness like bubbles in a swamp, serving to spur him onward. No not straight to Aakadon, he would first go to Zoltair, to the home of an old friend whom he hoped would lend support when the proper time came. Yes, a brief stop in that city and then on to the home of the Zephyr Guild to challenge Gerard DeCamp.

  The dapple gelding whinnied nervously, an unusual tone from the faithful mount. The well trained horse did not scare easily, which meant something was amiss.

  “What’s troubling you Dusty?” Terroll said, in a soothing tone of voice while patting his steed on the neck.

  A large white beast jumped onto the path ahead and ran forward waving its thick hairy arms in the air. How could there be a yeti here? Terroll wondered, while shaking his head in disbelief. The creature was closing in fast and forced him to act. He summoned the potential for, Lashing the Rope, and a silver beam shot from his finger and wove into invisible bands of air, stronger than half cubit hemp rope, and caught the yeti by the throat, and then lifted it off the ground. Its long legs continued to move as if still running on the trail. Terroll slung the beast around and around, building centrifugal force. The yeti could not even let out a scream of protest. When the force was sufficient, Terroll released the creature, launching it head first into a large boulder. The yeti’s skull smashed with a loud crack.

  Terroll peered into the darkness as a great roar gave warning of another yeti in the vicinity. Nothing moved, which was unusual in and of itself. There should have been some kind of movement, tiny animals scurrying to hide. “I would love to stay and entertain, but time is precious and I have places to go,” he said into the night, and then gripped the reins firmly. “Ya boy!” he shouted, and heeled the gelding forward. Dusty galloped at full speed without any further need of encouragement.

  Terroll knew there had not been a sighting of a yeti on the continent in over twenty years. He was suddenly startled out of his thoughts as harmonic ripples struck him like ocean waves, nearly knocking him out of his saddle. Someone was working a High Power spell and it was not difficult to figure out whom. That kind of casting would draw every yeti within fifty spans right to Daniel. Terroll shrugged, why worry, the boy could take on the Grand Maestro and have an even chance of winning; except the boy does not fathom a tenth of his capability.

  Terroll reined Dusty to a halt and turned to face Tannakonna. A sphere shined from th
e peak, illuminating the mountain, banishing the darkness and shining like noonday. Terroll was stunned, what could the boy be thinking? This was no wild spell; it was deliberate and well controlled. The light vanished and Tannakonna disappeared in a cover of darkness, only a brief after image of the orb remained on the retina. Time passed and the sphere appeared again, a beacon in the night, drawing attention to the spectacle. Invisible ripples of power struck and made Terroll feel like a buoy in the middle of the Serinian channel.

  The boy clearly had a plan, but what? To trap yetis of course, it was clever, very clever. Terroll frowned. Could Daniel handle what was coming at him? “You’re going to owe me for this one,” he said, and then urged Dusty toward the glowing mountain. The journey promised to be unpleasant, no telling how many yetis would be lying in wait along the trail or how many were already on Tannakonna. He hoped for the best and expected the worse.

  The brilliant sphere winked out like a snuffed candle. Terroll quickened his pace. How long could Daniel hold out? Half the night passed and still the ball of light did not reappear. This could only mean the boy accomplished what he intended to do or died trying. Whichever occurred, there was little point in continuing on to Bashierwood.

  Terroll glanced up at the starry sky. “I don’t think I’ve seen the last of you, Daniel Benhannon,” he said, feeling certain the boy’s abilities would not be easily overcome by anyone or anything.

  He turned Dusty around and resumed the journey to Zoltair, keeping his mind focused on Gerard DeCamp, the soon to be former Maestro of the Zephyr Guild. The wretched man had brought dishonor to the guild and not a soul dared challenge the Maestro after the forget spell was used. Nothing worse or more frustrating could befall an Aakacarn then to lose the ability to summon potential. A permanent forget spell should never have been used. Terroll grew angrier just thinking about it, the deed had been unethical. He had not expected such a reprehensible attack, not then. This time would be different. The High Power spell used on him should have been impossible to break, except by a five or six bolt Accomplished, someone who could counter with a potent memory spell. Terroll smiled. The Creator did indeed work in mysterious ways.