by Ron Collins
The room was now quiet except for the crackling fire pit and city noises that drifted in through the open windows.
“Come here, Will.”
The boy complied, and Garrick put his arm around Will’s shoulder.
“The boy and I are going to leave, quietly and peacefully. Make of that what you will. But heed my warnings. It is important you listen to the news this man brings, and it is important you make up your own minds. Koradictine and Lectodinian rule will be upon you before you know it, and it will be only through people like the Torean mages of the Freeborn, or maybe through independent people like me and like you, that Adruin as you know it may be saved.”
The crowd moved away as Garrick led Will to the doorway.
“Be careful, wizard,” the bald man said from afar. “News of this speech will travel.”
“Thank you,” Garrick said.
Then he took Will by the shoulder and guided him out of the tavern.
The nighttime air was cool, and the streets still busy.
“The orders will know where we are in the time it takes a man to run across town,” Garrick said as he led Will to the stables. “So we had best get on the move.”
“Are you a demon?” Will asked.
“No, Will,” Garrick replied. “But sometimes it feels that way.”
“Are you afraid?”
He looked at the boy and felt a noose tightening around his neck. Until recently he thought that noose was looped only around his own neck, but he felt differently now. If planewalkers were involved, that meant this was a big noose, a noose that was looped around the necks of every person on the plane. That included the necks of every Lectodinian and Koradictine mage on the plane, too, though they may not know it.
Alistair, with his penchant for isolation, would have bristled at this news that kept falling around him like pieces of a single puzzle. “There’s always a bigger demon,” Alistair would have muttered as he tweaked up a warding spell.
Garrick thought about planewalkers, about Arderveer, and about Elman waiting for him in Caledena. He thought about his god-touched magic, and he wondered where Darien and Sunathri might be. The orders were coming for him, and if he stayed with the Freeborn he was putting his friends at risk.
On the other hand, as long as Garrick was alive the orders had a common enemy, and would focus less on the Freeborn. Perhaps he was, therefore, the last barrier to full-scale war.
It was a strange thing to be both a target and a security blanket.
“Yes,” Garrick finally replied to Will. “I’m afraid of a lot of things.”
Chapter 13
"That didn't go as I had hoped," Garrick said to Will as they rode through the city.
The night was growing dark.
“What are we going to do now?” Will said.
“It’s too dangerous at the Inn,” Garrick replied. “So we’ll find a place out here to pass the night.”
“Out here?”
Will’s expression of fear told Garrick all he needed to know about the boy’s opinion of sleeping in the alleyway of a big city.
“I'll watch over you. You’ll be fine, I promise.”
“And we’ll see Darien tomorrow?”
“Maybe.”
The questions were beginning to annoy him again. “We’ll go to the university,” he said. “And if Darien wants to join us, he’ll find us there.”
“The university? What are we going to do at the university?”
“We’re going to try to learn as much as we can about the orders, Will. Where they came from, who they are, and where they might be today. Consider it your first lesson in magic, all right? Does that sound fun?”
“Yeah!”
Garrick has happy Will couldn’t see his expression from his seat in front of him.
He wasn’t going to tell Will that he needed to learn more about the orders because he had decided to go mage hunting. And he wasn’t going to tell Will that he was going to find the boy a new place to live, and that Garrick was going to leave him there while he went off on that hunt.
There are things the boys of a dozen years or so don’t understand, and Garrick wasn’t ready to face any of those things tonight.
“But for now we’re going to find you a place to sleep.”
Garrick knew this city well, and figured they would be safest in an alleyway, or maybe against a shore dock. He selected an alley, and propped a discarded crate against a brick wall to give Will a place to sleep. Kalomar stood at the end of the alleyway, hitched loosely to a post.
With his life force draining, Garrick did not sleep. But as he huddled against the wall using discarded fabric as a blanket, he slipped along the edge of lucidity and dreams played at the edge of his senses.
Darien swept his blood-bathed sword toward the neck of a burly creature. The thing’s head tumbled to the ground. and as it rolled forward its features grew more human and more similar to Darien’s. When it came to a halt, Garrick saw it was Thale, Darien’s brother …
Sunathri sat on a throne of polished stone. She twisted and pulled against restraints made of black and purple vines, but her efforts served only to draw the vines tighter. A snake slithered at her feet, twining slowly up one of the chair’s legs. She couldn’t speak, but her eyes were wide with terror. Garrick pulled a knife from his belt and sliced at the straps, freeing her just as the serpent buried its fangs deeply into her neck …
As Sunathri screamed, another serpent wrapped around his leg, its mouth gaping open, fangs prepared to strike …
Garrick screamed himself awake.
A man was there, squatted beside him and shaking him by the ankle.
Garrick scuttled away, preparing magic.
“Calm yourself, Garrick,” the man said. “If I had designs to kill you, you would never have woken up.”
The voice was deep and familiar. It was the bald ranger from the inn.
He breathed easier. His back hurt where the rough brick had bitten into it. His muscles ached from sitting on hard ground.
“How do you know my name?”
“Stories about you are growing more numerous than you may be comfortable with,” the man replied. “You’ll need to be sharper about where you sleep in the future. An alley is too easy a target.”
A dark body lay nearby.
Garrick nodded at it.
“Your work?”
The man grinned, his teeth white despite the shadows. “Lectodinian by the look of the brand.”
“Thank you,” Garrick said.
“I’ve never been too fond of the orders.”
“I’m glad of that.”
The bald man took a crab-step over to the body, then reached around its waist to remove a belt and a sturdy dagger. He handed them to Garrick. “You’ll need something other than your magic to protect you.”
The blade was short and stubby—a weapon balanced for throwing. He slipped it into his belt loop.
“What do you want for your services?”
“Nothing.”
Garrick gave him a quizzical glance.
“I figure you’re on the right side, Garrick. At least you talk a good game, eh?”
“Thank you. I hope I can repay it someday.”
The bald man glanced to the end of the alley. “You best be moving on,” he said. Then the man was gone.
Will was irritable when Garrick roused him, but he got moving quickly at the idea of a dead body a few feet away.
“Where are we going?” Will asked as Garrick lifted the boy up on Kalomar’s back.
“We’ll think of something.”
He glanced to the east. Morning was still a considerable time away.
They were probably safer if they got out of town.
That’s when he knew where he was going. It would be just for the evening, he told himself as he turned Kalomar to the west, and toward the sparse woodlands Garrick was so familiar with.
Arianna lived there—Arianna, her family, and her quiet life. He though
t about her, and about the one kiss they shared. He remembered the panic he felt as he cradled her bleeding head, the look of horror on her face when she saw what he'd done.
Arianna may never want to see him again, but he was drawn to her.
He wanted to see her one last time.
Will lolled in the saddle. His legs gave an involuntary dream jerk.
And even if Arianna wouldn’t see him, perhaps Arianna’s father would take the boy in. He could always use another hand in the fields, or maybe Will would be better at dealing with the alchemy of the smithy shop.
Garrick smiled despite himself.
If nothing else, the wood should be a safe place for the boy to sleep tonight.
It wasn’t until later, as they picked their way through the streets of Dorfort and into the dense trees, and as Will’s head lolled back against his chest, that Garrick realized he had never even asked the man who had saved them for his name.
Chapter 14
Elman grinned coldly as he watched Garrick and the boy ride through the woods. He was right! Garrick had come to the girl’s home. The thought brought him more than joy. He needed to be right this time. To have been wrong would have been unthinkable.
He sat on his horse, waiting.
The wooded air was cool and smelled of earth and damp wood. A half-moon hung high in the cloudless sky. The call of insects grew louder. It was a shame the boy had to be involved. But that was not his doing.
He cast a brief spell to send word to the others.
No prisoners.
As expected, Arianna’s house was dark and draped in the shadow of trees. Hickory smoke wafted from the chimney, reminding him of simpler times when Arianna’s family had accepted him as one of their own.
Garrick framed the boy with his arms, and felt his head roll with the horse’s motions.
“Are you all right, Garrick?” Will said in a sleepy voice.
“Yes. I’m fine,” he said.
And he was.
Coming here had been the right thing to do. If he hadn’t come here he would always wonder about her, always have doubts. But just seeing the place was enough. He didn’t belong here anymore. He had changed, and it was time to turn the page. He would return tomorrow, though. He would return to see about leaving Will in such a proper place to grow up.
The idea made him happy.
As he finished the thought, a sharp crack rang out, and his life force became suddenly alert.
Will twisted in the saddle, peering into darkness. “What—”
“Shh,” Garrick hissed, setting his gates.
A dark form moved in the woods, dropping under cover before Garrick could identify it. He guided Kalomar away from the house and toward the forest.
His senses stretched out and he felt life—humans. Lectodinians. First five, then ten, then twenty, and more, all mages and all armed. Leaves rustled as the Lectodinians moved as one.
Garrick spoke magic, and his magelight illuminated Elman’s face.
The Lectodinian was casting, his lips moving, his hands cupped and crossed. He gave a sharp motion, and every mage in the clearing cast their sorcery at once.
Garrick funneled life force into a quick barrier that clashed with the barrage and sent a shower of sparks across the night. The Lectodinians poured more magic upon him, but Garrick’s barrier was strong and they soon found themselves in a stalemate, a steady stream of Lectodinian sorcery flowing over the Torean’s impervious shield.
“Hoping to make one more dash into your lover’s arms?” Elman called.
Garrick ignored the taunt. “Hold tight,” he said to Will as he spurred Kalomar.
The horse lowered his head and surged forward.
Garrick gritted his teeth and pushed his spell before him like a battering ram. A stream of Lectodinian flames flowed off the shield, searing the ground until Kalomar pulled to an abrupt halt.
Lectodinian magic still rained over his shield, but a gap emerged in their positions. Garrick angled for it, a path that took him toward Arianna’s house.
A light came on inside.
No!
A bolt struck the tree next to them, and the trunk cracked before falling.
Kalomar screamed and leapt away to avoid being crushed.
The pounding of hooves thundered through Garrick’s ears, and his heart pumped. He was losing ground. The Lectodinians had him running in circles, and the net was drawing tighter. His shield would not last forever.
The door to the house opened, and Arianna’s father and brothers stepped onto the porch, each carrying curved blades.
“Go back inside!” Garrick yelled.
But her father bellowed something Garrick was unable to decipher, and did not retreat.
In the sudden lull, the mages cast a cloud of sorcerous blades that glinted like silver hornets.
He fortified his barricade, but the razors tore a hole in its fabric and more blue magic flared. Kalomar screamed in agony. Pain burned through Garrick’s leg. He defended himself by sending a bolt of pure energy back in the direction the blast had come from, but there were so many of them—row upon row upon row, and his life force was fading with each exertion.
He smelled the thick bile of his hunger stirring. Its essence was strong and firm, growing more powerful as time passed. It flexed its maw now, and its head swayed to and fro like a black dragon rising from the dead.
More magic flashed ahead of them, and Kalomar reared, throwing Garrick and Will into the air.
Garrick pulled Will around so he padded the boy’s fall. His ankle made a sickening crunch as they landed, and the impact knocked the breath out of him.
“Run!” he yelled as best he could and pushed Will toward a bush.
Will scampered for cover.
The heat of his life force slid toward his injured ankle, but he didn’t want to divert attention from the shield.
Another bolt of magic flared. Kalomar screamed again, then fell heavily sideways.
Garrick tried to stand, but pain streaked his ankle.
His stomach churned.
The hunger grew colder.
Hurried footsteps crashed through the brush—more mages. The Lectodinians had learned. They were taking no chances here—they had probably sent everything they could spare and then some.
It was over.
He would lose here.
Garrick had just grown to believe he could take care of himself, and now he had been caught unprepared, yet again. No, that wasn’t correct. He had been caught unprepared because he had begun to think he could handle himself.
It was the hunger that spoke to him loudest now—the dark, angry fury that lay just under his skin. He had to do something, and he had to do it now or he was going to lose everything.
Flames burst a few strides away.
He stood firmly despite the pain in his ankle. He funneled magestuff from his link, and he pulled every bit of life force he could muster from inside. He spooled it all, waiting until he had enough energy built up, holding off, depleting himself until the darkness came forward in full measure.
He called on it now, bringing that hunger forward with a purpose. And, this time Garrick welcomed it. He dropped the shield around him, and he looked at the approaching mages through eyes on fire. He reached out with his wild magic, searching for every Lectodinian he could find, mapping the distance with that hunger, and feeling each target.
Arianna’s father drew near, muttering curses and wielding his blade.
“Get away!” Garrick bellowed.
A Lectodinian blast struck Garrick in the chest, and he froze with pain as the blast seeped into his being. He gathered the spell's energy into himself, though, and poured it back into his own spell work. With a single thought, he unleashed a thunderclap—a raging torrent of silver-blue energy that snaked across the forest with a flickering strobe that froze everything in place.
One Lectodinian carried a predatory smile.
Another, an expression of shock.
&nb
sp; Garrick’s spell took them all at once, the scintillating fingers of his magic snaking out and scoring them all full-force, the power of the sorcery fueled by his anger and his need for vengeance. Energy sizzled. Life force mixed with sorcery to create a new breed of magic.
Screams echoed through the woods.
Trees bent in the wind.
Then it was over.
Garrick lay on the ground, gasping for breath, spent and unable to raise his head off the ground. It was dark, so dark. His cheek pressed hard against dirt and leaves. Hunger burned through his body. Braxidane’s whisper was a bare breath that he couldn’t decipher. Life force hung free over the woods, but he couldn’t move and the hunger merely twisted inside his gut.
A footstep crunched a few feet away.
Elman’s voice bled into Garrick’s conscious.
“That was an impressive display, Garrick. But now you will die.”
The Lectodinian's tone said Elman had been hurt, but had somehow managed to fend off the brunt of Garrick’s attack.
Elman spoke soft words of magic.
A sick green light flared about Garrick. His chest constricted. He tried to move, but could not. Faces from hi s past flashed into his mind.
I’m sorry, Garrick thought. He had done everything he could, defeated every Lectodinian but one, but it had not been enough.
Standing above him, Elman spoke the final syllables of his spell.
Blue flames burned in his palms.
A shadow of movement flashed at the edge of Garrick’s vision.
Will!
The boy leapt from the brush, pulled the dagger from Garrick’s belt, and in one quick motion threw the blade.
It whistled end over end before embedding itself in the Lectodinian’s chest with a solid thunk.
Elman clutched at the pommel, his spell fading, his voice gurgling in the darkness as he fell to his knees, then collapsed at Garrick’s feet.
Garrick felt the sweet closeness of Will’s life force.
This time Braxidane’s voice was strong and clear.