Daniel walked on determined not to show any emotions on his face, realizing none of the people looked at him the way they had before his being an Aakacarn was known. His own father seemed nervous, feet shifting and eyes widening, as did many of the residents who were even now filing out of the inn to get a look at the carpenter’s son as if he was a mysterious stranger.
A hush fell over the crowd as three travelers emerged from the Polkat, Talenteds from Aakadon, judging by their white silk clothing. The tallest of the trio stood half a hand taller than Hough Bess. The hood of his cloak lay back revealing black silky hair. His deeply tanned flesh and proud demeanor marked him a Serinian. He walked with the confidence of a young lord.
The second person stood slightly taller than Orin. He wore his hood in the same manner as the first, revealing neatly combed hair that was brown, almost black. His thick eyebrows stopped just short of being one straight line. To his right walked a young woman, equaling him in height, with eyes the color of emeralds. The hood of her cloak was up but several locks of yellow-gold hair were plainly visible. Her light complexion stood out amid the dark haired mountain women. She looked like a foreign princess. But what were she and her friends doing on Tannakonna?
Daniel leveled a stare at Tim, who arched an eyebrow. “Why didn’t you tell me they were here?”
Tim shrugged his shoulders, as he always did when confronted with a question he did not have a ready answer for. He hesitated, wearing the face of innocence. “I was going to, but the Condemneds and the yetis started after us and, does it really matter?”
Daniel glanced at the strangers, whom his mother was guiding him towards, and decided it did not. “I guess not. We would be fighting yetis anyway. Besides, maybe they can be of help.”
The Talented with the brown hair and thick eyebrows pointed his finger, not threateningly. An orange glow emanated from him. The young lady suddenly glowed amber and the Serinian, violet, although not the same hue Bella’s had been.
Daniel glowed in the blue aura of his own potential. Young Mr. Eyebrows must have cast the spell for identifying Aakacarns.
Tim, who had just finished hitching Sprinter to a post, hurried over. “What’s the matter? You look like a cat ready to pounce,” he said, and then looked towards the strangers. “So do they.”
Daniel quickly thought of a shield spell, but held back on summoning the potential, not wanting to provoke them into further action, but choosing to be safe.
His mother came to a stop in front of the Talenteds and pointed to the woman, “This young lady is Sherree Jenna. On her left is Samuel Cresh and on his left is Jerremy DeSuan. They are Talenteds from Aakadon. Talenteds, this is my son, Daniel,” she said, with a hint of pride.
“We’ve heard much about you,” Jerremy said. “Please, come inside. We have important matters to discuss,” he added, making the request sound like a command.
“Pleased to meet you too,” Daniel replied, dryly, knowing the Talenteds would eventually attempt to take him to Aakadon. The looks in their eyes practically shouted their intent, but for the sake of everyone he would work with them, for now. Cooperation was essential under the circumstances. “Lead the way,” he added, and followed after them.
“We’re glad you came back,” Hough said, walking up with his right hand extended, as if greeting a foreign dignitary, acting strangely for a man who had known him since birth. Aakacarns apparently have that effect on people.
“I’ll do every thing I can to help,” Daniel assured, hoping he sounded more confident than he actually felt.
His father shook hands with him, a hug would have been better. “We know your heart and what you’re capable of,” he said, formally.
The relationship would never be the same again, nothing would be as it was, and the master carpenter did not know a tenth of what his son was capable of. Daniel saw the change reinforced in the eyes of his father and also in each person who shook his hand. He nodded his head and forced a smile, pretending the change did not bother him.
Orin stalked up like a lion about to take down a deer. “Why didn’t you..,” he began, and then glanced at Tim and paused. Something happened between them. The sour mountaineer changed tone in mid-sentence. “Why, we’re just pleased to have you back to help us fight the yetis. We’re doubly pleased to see your spell casting has attracted more Aakacarns to assist us,” he amended in a softer tone, as if he would rather be biting into wormwood then say such words.
An inquisitive glance at Tim only produced shrugged shoulders. He was not about to explain so Daniel returned his attention to Orin. “I owe Bashierwood that much and intend to be on my way when this crisis is over,” he said, loud enough for everyone close by to hear.
“I always took you for a clear thinking man,” the old mountaineer replied.
Daniel stifled a laugh, knowing Orin had taken him for much worse and told him so countless times. He shook hands with him and moved farther into the dining area.
Val and Gina occupied table ten and seemed to be doing their level best to ignore the growing excitement his presence brought to the room. Their reaction was not entirely unexpected, but that did not stop it from hurting. Gina had been one of his friends and Val much more. He looked away and hardly noticed Donald Laird walk up and give him a bow before going outside, no doubt to check on Sprinter. Why did he bow?
The Talenteds settled at table four and waited expectantly, as though they were in charge, at least the Serinian appeared so. All three of them seemed anxious to speak with him. Daniel took a seat next to Sherree and pulled an empty chair from table five over for Tim.
“We’re told the village is surrounded by yetis and Condemneds,” Samuel began, stating the obvious. “What can you tell us about them? How many are there? What about Accomplisheds of the Serpent Guild?”
Jerremy frowned and glanced at his companion with unmistakable disapproval. Could there be division among them? “What my fellow Talented is trying to say is; what are we up against?” he said, seemingly unaffected by the angry look he received from Mr. Eyebrows. “I would also like to know what you plan to do.”
Daniel opened his mouth to answer but a warm hand landed gently on his wrist, causing him to look toward the third Aakacarn. She immediately withdrew her hand after seeing she had gained his attention. Her penetrating green eyes focused on him, revealing the intelligence behind them, making her the one to watch, and showing her to be far more dangerous than her two companions.
“A High Power spell originated from here. The harmonic ripples were felt all the way to Aakadon,” she said in a friendly manner. “I suspect you did it, although how is a mystery to me. You’re obviously not an Accomplished and yet you seem too strong and capable to be a mere Potential.”
The mystery would have to remain, strangers could not be trusted and especially not Aakacarns. Daniel gave one of Tim’s famous shrugs and focused on the Serinian, Sherree was too distracting. “Yes, you felt the ripples of my memory spell,” he admitted, and leaving it at that. “For my part in the coming battle, I intend to use anything and everything at my disposal. What are you three planning to do?” he added, hoping the question would shift the burden of answering queries onto someone else.
“We plan to cast a High Power spell that will blow the enemy forces away,” Samuel announced, as if the army he faced would not pose much of a challenge.
Daniel sat back in his chair while suppressing a sudden urge to sigh. None of the Talenteds had a lightning bolt, in spite of that they appeared supremely confident. He studied them for a while. Samuel’s foot was tapping the floor while Jerremy tapped a nervous rhythm on the table top and Sherree’s eyes blinked excessively. He stared into the eyes of each Talented and came to the conclusion they were not so sure of themselves after all, a good thing. The show of boldness was put on to give courage to the people who were standing around listening, some of whom were shaking their heads in apparent agreement with the questionable tactic. Samuel mentioned blowing away the enemy. A
wind spell would do that but it would not kill many yetis, but it might keep the beasts from entering the village and give the archers time enough to kill as many as possible.
“I see, you don’t want to talk about yourself,” Sherree observed, proving how perceptive she could be. “It’s okay for now but the subject of the High Power spell will come up again.”
She showed a persistence that would not be easily side tracked. She would have to be watched even more closely but Daniel felt up for the challenge, being a skilled hunter who did not leave any tracks unless he wanted them followed. He leaned forward. “You can ask again after the attack. That is, if we survive,” he said, softly, making sure his voice did not carry far. It would not be prudent to frighten anyone else. “Have any of you experienced a battle?”
All three of the Talenteds shifted nervously in their seats, making the answer painfully clear. They had no experience. Daniel sighed. He did not want to teach them spells they could later use against him, like when they insisted he accompany them to Aakadon and he refuses to go, something they will surely try to do. And, even if he did teach them a few spells, could they summon the potential to use them? A six-bolt Accomplished can routinely cast spells in moments that would take a one bolt half a mourning of intense concentration to perform, even with a crescendo it would take half that long. He wondered if the combined potential of these three Aakacarns even amounted to a single bolt.
Samuel cleared his throat. “Raiders attacked our wagons once when I was small. The men had to fight them off,” he said, with sadness in his eyes. “We won but many people died.”
A Teki, Daniel suspected as much. A Serinian, Teki, and what? Where did Sherree come from? Her accent was unfamiliar.
“I’ve never been in any battles but I have seen wounded soldiers return from them. Some of the men were maimed for life and others we could only make their last moments more comfortable. Queen Clarees recently lost her brother the same way,” Sherree said, and swallowed, seemingly saddened by whatever images were invading her mind.
Daniel rested his arm on the table. The stories were sad and more so because they meant he could not expect great feats of spell casting from them. He took Jerremy’s silence to mean battling was not one of his experiences either. He looked at Sherree. Clarees rules Lobenia, but the Talented‘s origin was not important beyond simple curiosity. The three of them are Aakacarns and their allegiance was to Aakadon, a society he wanted no part of. He tried to summon contempt and force himself to dislike them, but could not. They had done nothing against him or his family or Bashierwood. Efferin Tames is the one who deserved to be disliked, sending Talenteds to do a job way beyond their abilities. It would seem Tarin Conn had not lied about the Grand Maestro. Both Accomplisheds were dangerous, only in different ways. At least Efferin held his office legitimately. The exalted ruler of Aakadon did not go around threatening villages and turning people into Condemneds. It suddenly was not possible to hate the Grand Maestro. It occurred to Daniel that the Talenteds could have been sent by Terroll Barnes, but he could not muster any animosity toward the Ecoppian either.
“I think you should get some rest,” Tim said, his voice full of concern. He was standing now, waiting, apparently not willing to accept an argument to the contrary.
“You do look exhausted,” Sherree added, full of compassion. “Perhaps you should get some rest. I heard you were a captive of the Serpent Guild. Did they hurt you?” she asked. “Do you need healing?”
Daniel glanced at Tim and wondered how much his friend had told these people. None of them knew what it was like to bear the curse of Tarin Conn, how could they? Cenni Quen had used a painful spell to capture him but the agony passed. The Dark Maestro’s psychological assault was far worse, it never ended. Daniel sighed. “I would rather not discuss it. The constant battle of wills is wearing me out. I can’t rest. The nightmares come, awake or asleep. At least awake I have some control, although not much.”
Every eye was fixed on him. People had heard and he had said enough, too much really. Tim led the way to the kitchen, in the back of which was a small room, sometimes used for travelers who worked for their lodging and most times used by Henri to nap in.
A scream stopped Daniel in his tracks. He turned to see Linda Polkat sobbing in the middle of the floor, blood flowing from a deep gash in the palm of her hand. The innkeeper’s young daughter stared at the open wound with a look of horror and disbelief.
Bernie Keppin rushed to her carrying a white cloth in his big hands. The man stood taller then the door and was nearly as wide, making him the biggest mountaineer on Tannakonna. The giant hunter bent down, gently wrapping the wound. “You’ve seen him hundreds of times, try to be more careful,” he said in a rich bass tone.
Linda wiped away a tear and looked up. “Yes, but he’s not Daniel anymore,” she replied, making it hard to believe this was the same little girl who used to sit and listen to him play the guitarn.
The words stung a little but she was only voicing what the entire village, including his parents, did not want to say out loud. He let the remark pass without comment and quietly walked over to her, then removed the bloody cloth and thought of the spell, Sowing the Rip.
A soft blue glow formed as the potential surged in him. He traced along the cut with his index finger, causing the damaged tissue to glow and the laceration to vanish as if it never had been there. The healing required very little power.
“Thanks,” said Linda, with the natural exuberance only a child could lay claim to. She jumped up, gave a quick hug, and then ran out of the kitchen shouting about what had happened.
Daniel smiled; the hug went a long way in making him feel better. He turned toward the back room and caught a glimpse of the three Talenteds watching him from the other door. Their expressions were difficult to read and differed with the individual. So what? Let them look. The child needed healing and he had no regrets about doing it. He entered the dark room and without much thought, cast a spell to light the lantern hanging by a hook in the ceiling, startling Tim, who even so remained quiet.
Daniel stretched out on the bed, and then watched his friend nod affirmatively before exiting. There was mumbling in the kitchen but none of the voices were clear enough to be understood, no doubt they were talking about him. Let them say what they wanted, it did not matter. He glanced around the room, pleased there were no windows. With the flame out, the only light would be that which filtered in under the door. He decided to keep the light on, not wanting to fall asleep, hoping to avoid what promised to be an unpleasant audience.
A fresh pitcher of water had been placed beside the bed, possibly by his mother, although it could have been meant for the innkeeper. He poured a glass of the refreshing liquid and drank half the container before settling down. Until this moment he had only been inside the room for the expressed purpose of cleaning it. The very idea of lying in Henri’s day bed seemed strange. Fatigue set in and his eyelids grew heavier, each blink lasting longer than the previous until his tired body could no longer resist the urge to sleep.
He stood in the grand chamber facing the crystal throne but fixed his gaze on the steps, refusing to acknowledge the man sitting in the royal chair at the top, and hoping the evil Accomplished would get angry and end the encounter sooner rather than later. The Dark Maestro was getting on Daniel’s nerves; not being able to rest was part of the reason along with the egotist’s threats and wild mood swings.
“Welcome back,” Tarin Conn said with a hint of surprise in his voice. “You are looking much healthier,” he added, no doubt expecting to the contrary.
Daniel remained quiet, wanting to kick himself for falling asleep and Cenni Quen for bringing this curse upon him.
“Sulking will not help my young stallion. Give in. Serve me and save your precious village,” Tarin Conn droned on. “Promise to serve me and the village will be yours to protect or discard at your discretion.”
Daniel looked up at the Dark Maestro, wanting to kick himsel
f for lapsing and acknowledging the ancient Accomplished. “The village isn’t yours to give. Go away and leave me alone!” he shouted with unmistakable contempt.
Tarin Conn leaped from the throne and landed less than a cubit away, staring down with those dark penetrating eyes. “Boy, don’t you get testy with me. I can destroy you!” he yelled, and then smiled wickedly. “Your attitude needs adjusting. Let the lesson begin!”
Daniel opened his eyes, ending the miserable session. He sprang to his feet while casting a locate spell. Hundreds of yetis were moving towards the village, and more came with each passing moment. He sensed the three Talenteds in the dining area and four Accomplisheds in the forest along with twelve of the Condemneds. He broke the spell and extinguished the lantern, knowing the time for battle had come, and then hurried through the empty kitchen and out into the dining room.
Tim was on his feet instantly. “What’s the matter?” The drummer asked, rushing from table ten where he had been sitting with Gina and Val.
Daniel glanced around the near empty room; hoping people would not be caught sleeping. “The yetis are coming. Are the barricades in place?” he asked, as his mother approached.
“You were asleep, how can you know what is happening outside?” she asked.
“I cast a spell,” he replied, hurriedly, having little time or reason to elaborate on something only an Aakacarn would truly understand. He glanced at table four. “Sherree, I think you folks should get into position.”
The Talenteds moved swiftly and bravely towards the door with instruments in hand, a flute, trumpet, and vyolin. They had the appearance of self-confidence, but he knew better and was glad to know they did too.
He followed them onto the porch. Crates were piled on the northern approach to Bashierwood and the southern end seemed equally fortified. He and Tim, who silently matched his stride, walked along the dirt covered street. Anson Trushell stood atop the eastern barricade, poised to shoot an arrow. Willy Thorn stood watch on the western defense. The village seemed to be ready.
To Cast The First Spell (The Maestro Chronicles) Page 21