To Cast the First Spell

by John Buttrick

  Daniel watched Val carry a bucket from the well and hand it to Bernie Keppin, who in turn used it to drown out a fire near Chad Grening’s previously repaired stable. She and the others who had not been injured worked diligently to restore some sense of order after the brutal attack. Daniel wanted to go over and hug her and tell her he was glad she is still alive, but was fairly sure she would not return the sentiment.

  Todd Polkat and Hough Bess carried a stretcher from the inn over to the livery. Someone else had died and Daniel could not make out who it was, only that the person was large and wearing buckskins. The sight was becoming depressingly frequent. “I’m going inside to heal those who have been injured before more of them end up in the livery,” he said, and then noticed young Mr. Eyebrows making his way up the busy street. “We have company,” he warned, nodding his head toward the Talented and playing the shield Melody in his mind, ready to summon potential.

  Tim spun around with an arrow notched and ready, and then lowered his bow upon seeing who was approaching. “It’s only, Samuel.”

  Far more people would have suffered and died were it not for the efforts of the Talenteds. Orin was wrong about all Aakacarns being trouble, these three definitely proved otherwise. Daniel felt a twinge of guilt for not trusting them.

  Samuel came to a stop in front of the barricade where Kemer Tannet stood, bow in hand, keeping a watchful eye on the forest. “You seemed to have held your position well,” the Talented stated.

  “We did our best,” Tim replied without going into detail, proving he could be trusted not to reveal all he knew.

  Daniel worried, seeing only the Teki. Where are his friends? “Have Sherree or Jerremy been injured? Are they alright?” he asked. Perhaps that’s why the spell caster seemed nervous. Surely the other Talenteds aren’t dead.

  “They are no worse off than am I, mostly thirsty,” Samuel replied, eyebrows twitching. “I’m glad the battle didn’t last longer. The spell nearly exhausted us even using crescendos. I don’t think we could have held the blighted beasts back had the assault stretched on for another mark,” he paused, frowning as though some offense might have been taken by his words. “I’m sorry. Do you know what a crescendo is?”

  Daniel was amused. “I’ve heard of them,” he said, trying not to smile, and clearing his mind of the shield spell.

  Samuel fidgeted, staring at the ground, obviously having something more on his mind. He shifted his stance and looked up stone faced. “Now that Bashierwood is safe, I think you should ride with us to Aakadon.”

  Daniel stiffened, knowing the subject was bound to come up sooner or later. He did not think this was the time to argue and knew Bashierwood was far from safe. Of course Samuel could not know that. The next assault would likely last longer and possibly be unstoppable. Any decision about where to go after the battle could be made when the fighting was over, assuming there was anybody left to discuss it. He had no intention of going to Aakadon and knew it would take more then three Talenteds to compel him to go anywhere. “We’ll talk later, my throat is dry and I would really like something to drink,” he said, trying to keep his tone none-abrasive and hoping the Aakacarn would be prudent enough to let the matter drop.

  “Of course, I’m thirsty too,” Samuel replied, giving a tight smile, apparently willing to save the discussion for a later time, and wisely so.

  Daniel nodded affirmatively and headed down the street. Most all of the fires were out and the few people who were not watching the forest concentrated their efforts on helping the wounded. Smiles and warm regards greeted him as though he was some sort of hero, which was better than being blamed for the mess. He entered the Polkat, once again serving in the way it had after the original attack led by Cenni Quen.

  No doubt that Accomplished was one of the four directing the recent assault and, likely as not, one of the remaining three. Daniel pondered the matter while looking for Gloria Dockett. He found her in the right hand corner of the room with skin nearly as pale as the sheet she was wrapped in. Stacey Grening worked to make Gloria and others with life threatening injuries more comfortable. “Where is her arm” he asked Mrs. Grening while watching the victim.

  Stacey blinked and her left eyebrow arched upward. She seemed on the verge of making a sharp remark and then hesitated for a moment and sighed, pointing to a sack on the floor. “I don’t know why they brought it in, you men seem to think we can sew anything back on,” she said, making an obvious attempt to keep the sarcasm out of her tone, and failing miserably. He knew the attempt would never have been made had he asked the question before his being an Aakacarn became public knowledge.

  He grabbed the sack and removed the mangled arm with all the clinical detachment he could muster, which was not near as much as he would have liked. The flesh was cool and sticky to the touch and missing large chunks of muscle where the yeti had been chewing. Seeing Gloria in such pain did not help either.

  “What are you doing?” Stacey demanded, not bothering to hold back her emotions now, Aakacarn or not. She stood with hands on hips and even added a scowl for good measure.

  Daniel walked passed her quietly, being in no mood to justify himself, bringing the severed arm to Gloria, who flinched and looked away. “Listen, I can heal you,” he said, gaining her attention. “If you want my help, go to the little room Henri keeps just off the kitchen.”

  Gloria nodded her agreement and motioned to Stacey, who arched an eyebrow questioningly but hurried over to help her up anyway.

  Daniel had no trouble getting people to make way for him. One glance at the object in his hand sent the stoutest hearted individuals off in another direction. He went straight to the room and waited for the women to enter before closing the door.

  Stacey helped Gloria to the bed and then stepped back with arms folded over her breasts and her right foot tapping the floor.

  Gloria hesitated briefly, took a deep breath and let the sheet drop away from her. Bandages with deep red stains covered her chest and shoulders. She nodded to Stacey, who proceeded to remove the narrow strips of cloth.

  Daniel stepped forward without hesitation. The sight of a topless woman would have aroused him under different circumstances. What he saw now was far from erotic. The yeti’s claws had made four deep cuts reaching half way across her chest before ripping the arm out of its socket. Fresh blood oozed from the naked wounds and it seemed the crude stitches were not helping. How she endured the pain was beyond him. He had seen men weep like babies over lesser injuries.

  He held the arm against her shoulder and thought of the spell, Stitching the Rip. The arm began to heal, but did not re-attach. He could force it back on but making the epidermis cover the extensive wounds would not be enough to keep the arm from being useless. He knew there had to be a spell for this type of healing, but it was not among the ones Terroll had taught him. Daniel searched to the depths of his soul for a Melody. Slowly, random notes took on a rhythm and jelled into a complex tune with chords. He knew with all his instincts this would do the job and did not hesitate to hold the arm in place and summon the potential. The blue glow surrounded him and extended to Gloria. Bone and socket knitted together along with muscle tissue, veins, and flesh, making the arm whole and without blemish.

  He touched the lacerations on her breasts and watched as the wounds vanished under his caress. Her injuries were gone. “Rest and drink plenty of fluids,” he told her.

  Now he understood how physicians could tend to the sick and see them unclothed without being aroused. There was nothing sexy about seeing mangled bodies and torn limbs, nothing erotic about seeing a fellow human being suffer. He noticed a scratch on Stacey’s forehead and quickly healed that as well.

  Gloria wrapped both arms around him and held on as if she might never let go. “Thanks Daniel,” she whispered.

  He gently ended the embrace and stepped back. “You’re welcome,” he said, and then started for the dining area. There were more people who needed healing and he had no intention of resti
ng until all had been taken care of.

  “I’m sorry,” Stacey called out.

  Daniel came to a stop with his hand on the door latch, “What for?” She had not done him any harm.

  “I doubted you,” she replied, while helping Gloria cover up with the sheet.

  He had no intention of holding grudges against anyone, especially under the circumstances. Tensions were running high and people were frightened, naturally folks would be ill tempered and impatient. “You don’t owe me an apology. I didn’t know I could do it until the need arose,” he replied, and opened the door. He crossed the kitchen and entered the dining area without stopping.

  He noticed Sherree crouching beside Todd Benkesson. The lanky fur trapper had a nasty gash, his biceps were shredded. An amber glow formed around the female Aakacarn while she rubbed her hands softly over the wounds. She seemed to be focusing and concentrating on what to her was a major expenditure of potential. The injuries slowly healed until not a trace of them remained.

  Orin grimaced as Jerremy reached out with a glowing hand and healed the crusty old timer’s head wound. The Talented received a grudging thank you for his trouble and accepted a glass of water from Lydia Polkat, and then went on to heal Laren Cutter’s broken arm.

  Daniel drank several glasses of water, and then proceeded to heal everyone within his reach. Fred Jameson walked up to him exposing a badly burned arm. The cooked flesh healed instantly, and with minimal concentration.

  “Hey, thanks,” said the broad shouldered archer while flexing his arm, and then headed out the front door.

  Daniel quickly assessed the needs of the remaining injured folks scattered across the room while sipping from his glass. Jenny Taylor was stretched out on a cushion near the fireplace. Crimson stains saturated her beige dress, particularly in the abdominal region. Her parents stood close to her, weeping unashamedly.

  Daniel made his way over to the grieving family, wanting to help. Jenny was seventeen and anxiously waiting for Tom Grening to build a cabin and invite her in. Daniel wanted to see her live to accept. “Show me the wound,” he said, and prepared himself for what promised to be a stomach turning sight.

  Cynthia Taylor lifted her daughter’s dress without hesitation, apparently confident he could do her some good. She looked away as if unable to bear the sight any longer. “Please help her,” she pleaded, and then sobbed into her hands.

  Daniel winced at the sight of the wounds. Five gouges marred Jenny’s abdominal region. Her muscles were slashed as if by five hunting knives. Her intestines were not only exposed, they were ripped open and giving off horrible gastric odors. This girl would not live another two fractions of a mark. Her under pants were soaked red and judging by the wounds, this was not the dress she was attacked in, the yeti must have torn it to shreds.

  He sighed and shook his head, causing even her father to moan. This was not going to be easy. It made the injury Val had suffered after the first attack seem simple. He took a deep breath and summoned the potential, reaching into Jenny’s gaping wounds. She moaned as he healed each sausage-like section of her intestines and pushed them back into position. He flattened both palms over the tear in her belly and allowed his potential to flow into her. Muscles reconnected and new skin formed. He spread his hands out over her waist, healing the rips and scratches there as well. The healing was complete. He broke the spell and gazed at her perfectly shaped and scar free tummy. He thought of the spell, Laundering, used by the Aakacarns to clean their clothes. His cheeks went hot at the idea of using it on her, mainly because touching would be required and since this was not in the line of healing, it did not seem proper.

  Jenny opened her eyes and sat up, groggily, sending waves of luxuriant brown hair down her back. She was groggy from the loss of blood. “You saved me?” she asked in a voice slightly above a whisper. She touched her tummy and smiled. “Not even a scratch. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” Daniel replied, while her mother hugged him and her father tried to shake his hand. He glanced at the people standing around and noticed some of the older boys were staring at Jenny’s tummy with desire and not wonder. “Your tummy is attracting attention,” he whispered.

  Jenny’s eyes widened and she smoothed her dress down while her face turned bright red.

  Tom Grening ran inside the dining area wild-eyed. “Where is she? Hough told me she is in here dying!” he shouted, and then glanced at Jenny and ran to her. There was little doubt he would be building a cabin soon.

  Daniel glanced at the entrance and spotted Val. She was taking care of people having minor cuts and scrapes. His cabin for her was finished, and so were their dreams of a life together. She looked up in his direction and froze like a mouse cornered by a snake. Her eyes widened as if she actually thought he might strike at her. He could never marry a person who looked at him like that, in sheer terror. Daniel got the distinct impression she would rather be sharing the room with a yeti. The truth did not seem to hurt as much this time. “Accept the changes,” he told himself, and not marrying her was one of them.

  “Sit down and drink this,” his mother said from behind. He had not even heard her approach, and not for the first time in his life. Miriam Benhannon could out stalk a cat when she wanted to. “You haven’t rested since before the attack. All that flame throwing must’ve made you tired and thirsty.”

  His mother was not the kind to be easily sidetracked. It was easier to do what she wanted. Besides, the tall glass of water in her hand did look inviting. He took his mind off Val and gave in to his mother.

  “There that’s better. Now relax awhile. You and the Talenteds have healed everyone who was seriously injured, the rest can wait,” his mother said, sounding more the way she did before he cast the first spell. Even this relationship was changing. She stared at him glassy eyed, as if viewing royalty.

  “Thanks,” he said, and then took a sip of water and sat down at table seven. It made him uncomfortable to have his own mother look at him like that but there it was. What could he do? He glanced elsewhere, not being particular, and spotted Gloria Dockett resting on a cushion. Her eyes slowly closed and he almost envied her. She could do the one thing he both desired and dreaded, sleep. Tarin Conn would not permit rest. Holding out against the Dark Maestro could prove to be difficult. How long before fatigue caused Daniel to make bad judgments or worse, lose control. There was little worse than a mentally unstable spell caster.

  “I didn’t have an opportunity to thank you earlier,” said a voice, interrupting the thought. Daniel looked to his right and nearly blushed at his own failure. Twice now he had been approached without having noticed. Hough Bess was seated next to him. “We would have been the main course at a yeti feast if it hadn’t been for you. That fire throwing is something to behold, especially when you aim it at yetis. How did you know they had broken through our defenses?”

  Daniel did not see any point in holding back the answer. He finished his drink and placed the empty glass on the coaster. “I know a spell that allows me to sense the whereabouts of yetis,” he replied, and smiled when his mother refilled his glass with sparkling water. He nodded to her, took a sip, and cleared his throat. “There will be another attack, I’m sure of it. A close watch should be kept on the forest at all times,” he added, although it seemed strange to be giving his opinion to the mayor.

  Hough shook his head and pursed his lips, looking doubtful. He took a sip of wine and leaned back in his chair. “Trust me, men and women are taking turns on the barricades,” he said, and his eyes narrowed and he hesitated as if unsure of what to say, or possibility what not to say. He looked very much like a man afraid to disagree, a thing rarely seen on Tannakonna. Most folks welcomed a difference of opinion and the mayor more so. It was clear he no longer saw the mountaineer who grew up practically under his nose. “I don’t think we’ll experience another assault like the one today,” he ventured to say. “But there could be yetis wandering about in the forest and letting even one of them get i
nto the village would be dangerous,” he added, hastily, as if confirming he at least agreed a watch should be kept on the woods.

  Daniel did not like people stepping around him as if they were walking on eggshells. Tim seemed to be the only one not doing so. At least the drummer understood the scope of the situation, how enormous the opposition really was. Of course, no one else had been told of the Dark Maestro’s reason for attacking in the first place. Daniel stared into his glass, not wanting to look Hough in the eyes just then. “There are still three Accomplisheds of the Serpent Guild and hundreds of Condemneds, not to mention thousands of yetis,” he said, hoping the words would sink in.

  “Tim mentioned them, but I’ve only seen yetis and the Condemneds. What makes you think the others are out there?” Hough replied, obviously avoiding the word, Accomplished, not that he could be blamed for not wanting to speak of them.

  Daniel emptied his glass in four gulps and stared up at the mayor. “Trust me, I know,” he said in a voice harsher than he intended.

  Hough’s knuckles went white around the glass in his hand. He drank the contents quickly and gave a nod that seemed to indicate acknowledgement, but could have meant just about anything from, yes, to, I’ve got to get away from this table before it’s too late. The conversation had taken a decidedly negative turn and Daniel wished there was some good news to offer, something that would help the mayor sleep at night. Recent events might well haunt the man’s dreams for years to come; that is if he is among the survivors after the next assault. Hough stood and walked over to table one where Henri and Chad were talking among themselves.

  Daniel took another sip of water, he had not noticed when the glass was refilled but glad for it. He watched as Samuel worked his way around the room healing minor cuts on the people he encountered. Some of the scratches probably were not even related to the attack. The Talented healed them just the same. His white silk garments appeared to be freshly laundered in spite of all the blood he came in contact with. None of the Aakacarns seemed to tolerate so much as a smudge on them for more than a few moments.