“You’ve got to take a break!” Josiah yelled at him over the rush of the river, after Elkan finished healing a watcher gashed by a floating chunk of debris. Elkan nodded grimly, and they waded toward land the water had not yet reached.
They took shelter under a building’s overhanging eaves, perching on some barrels. Elkan sat panting for a while, then pulled out one of the bags of nuts and dried fruit the Mother’s Hall kitchen had passed out to all the wizards. “Here, share some, there’s plenty.” Josiah accepted a few pieces, but made sure Elkan ate the bulk of it. He spotted a broken branch and dragged it over for Sar, who nibbled at the leaves. After the rest and food, wizard and familiar both looked a little refreshed. Though not much, Josiah thought critically. He wondered if all the people were out of their section yet. How would they know when they’d done everything they could and were free to return to the Mother’s Hall? At least the rain had slowed to a drizzle, though from the look of the black clouds to the west it was still pouring over there.
Elkan pushed himself to his feet. “Let’s head downstream.” He pushed his dripping hair out of his face, but it flopped right back. He ignored it. “Sar, you holding up?”
The donkey made no visible response, but plodded in the indicated direction. Elkan and Josiah followed.
Ahead, the flood submerged a dip in the street. A watcher struggled toward them through water up to his knees. Spotting them, he waved frantically and redoubled his pace, splashing out onto the dry section. “There you are! We’ve been looking all over for you.”
Elkan hurried to the man’s side. “What’s wrong?”
He reached for the man’s arm, where a shallow scrape showed red, but the watcher pushed his hand aside. “Never mind that. You’ve got to come now. It’s Prison Point!” He seized Elkan’s arm and dragged him, gasping an explanation as he went. “We were telling people to stay there, it’s pretty high, but then a huge rush of water came down Mill Brook and washed out the road. Something happened upstream, we think maybe the dam broke. The whole point’s cut off, and water’s tearing up the ground. A couple of buildings have fallen into the river and more are going. We’ve got to get them out. There’s at least a hundred and fifty people over there.”
Grim, Elkan slogged after the man, Sar and Josiah close behind. They floundered through pools of hip-deep water, then across dry patches alternating with ankle-deep spots. They came to a stretch of road that was built up higher than the surrounding land and hurried along it. Ahead, Josiah heard a deep roar.
A cluster of watchers stood in the road. They reached the spot, and Josiah gaped in horrified awe. A thirty-foot section of road was gone. Water poured through the gap. Mill Brook, which normally dipped sharply south, had carved itself a shorter path to the river. Now it split into two streams. The larger still bent around the point, tearing away great chunks of dirt and rock as it passed, but a significant portion flowed through the breach in the road and across the narrow neck of the point, cutting it off from the surrounding land.
A crowd of people huddled at the edge of what had become an island. As Josiah watched, a building next to the brook trembled and collapsed into the foaming water. People screamed, pushing and shoving to get as far as they could from the destruction.
A watcher pointed. “Some of us tried to make it across, but we had to turn back. It’s just too deep, and the current’s too strong.”
Elkan peered out over the water. “Are there any watchers over there?”
“The ones from the prison. They’ll have to bring the prisoners out, too; it looks like the building might go before long.”
Josiah’s stomach clenched. Nirel and Gan were trapped in there!
Debris swept past their feet. Across the torrent, a tree toppled with majestic deliberation and glided away, its roots clawing the grey sky.
The watcher turned from a hurried consultation with his fellows. “Can you help?
Elkan looked over at the trapped people and down at the water. He put his hand on Sar’s back. “We’ll do what we can. Let’s get to work.”
Josiah studied the situation, trying to think what Elkan should do. “Can you block off the water? There, at the break in the road?” The water pouring through was powerful, but the gap wasn’t that big. If Elkan could stop it, that should let the area between the road and river drain enough for people to get across.
Elkan ran a hand through his hair. “If we weren’t so drained already, we could. But it’s far beyond what strength we have left. We’ll have to make do some other way.”
He went out to the furthest jagged point of the road. Sar pressed closed to his side. He cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted. “Jump in and swim!” He pointed where the water spread out and slowed before it reached the main body of the Tarath. Watchers hurried down and lined the edge of the water. “A few at a time! We’ll guide you!”
Some among the milling crowd heard him. There were a few moments of confusion and argument, but eventually one figure jumped in the water. Light poured from Elkan’s hand and surrounded the swimmer, preventing him from being swept downstream. He reached the near shore and struggled out, dripping, grabbing the hands of the waiting watchers. He turned and shouted to those on the island, before a watcher guided him off toward safety.
A few more people gathered enough courage to plunge in. Elkan guided them. Josiah watched, feeling helpless.
An idea struck him. He raced down to the watchers. “Rope! Do you have any rope?”
One of them handed him a coil of rope from his belt. Josiah stretched it out on the ground and ran its length, estimating the distance. “Not long enough. Any more?”
None of the other watchers was carrying rope. Josiah raced back down the road until he reached some buildings and made a search. He was rewarded with a generous length of stout cord. Josiah knotted the two ropes together and gave one end to the watchers to hold. He hurried to Elkan’s vantage point with the other. Careful not to break the wizard’s concentration, he waited until the current cluster of swimmers had reached the bank. “Here, Elkan. Send it over!”
Elkan understood immediately. Gold light ripped the rope from Josiah’s grasp and swept it across the river. Eager hands reached for it. A dozen of the trapped people plunged into the water clinging to the rope. The watchers hauled them across.
The rope went back across; more people grabbed it. Elkan and Sar supervised the swimmers and guided floating chunks of debris out of the way while the watchers managed the rope. Everything seemed to be going well. Some of those rescued stayed and ransacked nearby buildings for more rope. Soon two more lengths pulled people across.
Several dozen people were in the water when disaster struck. One of the ropes broke. The people clinging to it were swept helplessly downstream into the next rope, which broke under the sudden added strain. Light flashed from Elkan’s hands. He seized as many as possible, but he and Sar staggered under the burden. At least three people escaped their grasp and vanished under the water.
The little island was rapidly disintegrating. More buildings collapsed and were swept away. Josiah saw with alarm that many of the people left were parents clutching young children. He understood their reluctance to risk the water, but they’d be doomed if they didn’t.
More people appeared to swell the numbers of those awaiting rescue. Watchers worked hard to keep order. Josiah realized the newcomers must be the inhabitants of the prison. Several pushed past the waiting people and plunged into the water, heedless of how many were before them. Sar let out a bray. Elkan grunted and fought to keep hold of all of them.
The prison had been emptied just in time. Josiah heard a rumbling crash. He could just make out through the dim gray drizzle that the back half of the stone building had crumpled. The pounding water kept tearing at the land. Soon the rest of the prison building followed and was swallowed by the deluge. The point had shrunk to less than half its former size.
A watcher approached him with a long, flat board. “Could the wizard m
ake a bridge, do you think? There’s more like this we can rip off that building over there.”
“It’s worth a try.” The watcher recruited others to help. Soon a dozen boards were piled next to Elkan.
“Elkan, quit ferrying people a minute.” Josiah cupped his hands around his mouth and bawled as loudly as he could. “Everybody stop!”
They heard him, but a few jumped in anyway. The golden light pushed them back, and soon the water was empty. Elkan turned to Josiah. “What?” He staggered and leaned heavily on Sar, who seemed barely able to hold him up.
“These boards. Can you make a bridge across where the road used to be and hold it in place?” Josiah shoved one of the boards into the breach as an example. The current nearly ripped it from his hands.
Elkan stared blankly for a moment before he caught the idea. “Oh. Yes. Let’s try it.” He wrapped a hand in Sar’s mane, pushed himself up straight, and thrust his hand toward the boards. They flew sluggishly through the air, lining up one after the other, rimmed with light.
“We can’t hold it long,” Elkan muttered through gritted teeth. Josiah beckoned the people across the water, but they stared apprehensively at the narrow, wavering bridge, unwilling to venture it.
“Cross it!” Josiah yelled, but no one responded. Mothers and fathers clutched their children, torn between terror of the rising water and distrust of the shaky bridge.
“Oh, Mother,” Josiah said in disgust. He took a deep breath, put one foot then the other onto the first board, and ran lightly across the bridge.
He knew Elkan would catch him if he fell, but still he couldn’t look down into the rushing black water. He kept his eyes fixed on his goal. The boards trembled beneath his feet, but held. The light of the Mother sent a warm tingle through his icy numb feet.
He jumped off the other side. “See? It’s fine! Come on!” He looked for someone to send across.
Grabbing a man holding a sobbing toddler, he shoved him toward the boards. The man hesitated, took a few shaky steps, then quickened his stride until he was racing to land and safety. More parents with children followed him, but many still hung back.
Frustrated, Josiah looked around, trying to find others willing to try. He turned and came face to face with Nirel.
He stared at her stupidly a moment, then seized her wrist. She tried to pull away. “Let others go. I can wait. My father and the rest are still back there.”
But Josiah refused to release her. He dragged her toward the bridge.
“Josiah!” Elkan shouted, panic in his voice.
Josiah darted onto the bridge, hauling Nirel behind him. As soon as they crossed the first board it tore lose and spun away downstream. Board by board, the bridge disintegrated behind them as they ran. The last of the Mother’s light died just as they reached solid ground. Josiah grabbed Nirel, and they sprawled on the cobblestones.
Elkan slumped across Sar’s back, breathing in great shuddering gasps. The donkey swayed, barely able to keep his feet.
“Go!” Josiah scrambled to his feet and shoved Nirel towards land. “Get up to high ground where it’s safe.” She resisted, looking back across the water.
An idea struck him. He lowered his voice. “Look, Nirel, this is your chance! The watchers are all busy; nobody’s paying attention. You can escape. I’ll help. Go… um… to the shipyard. Ask for my brother Yered. Tell him I sent you. I’ll come as soon I can.”
She looked at him, her expression dark and unreadable, and turned to run down the road. Josiah clenched his hands into fists, watching until she vanished into the gloom. He returned to Elkan’s side.
The wizard pushed himself up. He turned blindly to Josiah. “How many left?
Josiah peered across. The rain had strengthened again, obscuring his vision. “Fifty at least, maybe seventy.” He gulped. “Still lots of children. Gan’s over there, too.” And Kabos, and Ozor, but he wasn’t going to mention them.
Elkan scrubbed the rain out of his eyes. Looking across the water, he focused on the cluster of people. Shrieks and screams rent the air. The last of the buildings shuddered and crumbled into the water. Only a fragment of land remained, barely big enough to hold those remaining. They clung to each other as the raging water clawed away stone and soil.
Elkan’s head bobbed as he silently tallied their numbers, confirming Josiah’s estimate. Face pale, he bit his lip and closed his eyes for a moment.
When he opened them, his mouth set in a grim line, and an expression of terrible resolve lit his face. Josiah quailed, not understanding, but afraid.
Elkan studied the rushing water at his feet as it poured through the breach in the road. He ran a hand through his hair.
“Sar.” Elkan’s voice was quiet, calm. “You know what we have to do.”
The donkey laid his ears back. The whites of his eyes showed.
A gust of wind drove rain hard into Josiah’s face. Elkan staggered and fell to one knee. He wound both hands in Sar’s mane and dragged himself up. “It doesn’t have to be both of us. It will be enough with just me. Quick, Sar, before any more are lost.”
Sar braced his legs and put his head down, stubbornness written in every line of his body.
“Do it!” Elkan shouted. He slid down the donkey’s side, tried to pull himself up, failed. “Now, Sar! Please—”
Ears plastered to his head, Sar glared at Elkan. He turned. One liquid brown eye bored into Josiah.
The donkey’s head snaked back to his flank, and his teeth drove savagely into his own side. Elkan’s eyes widened. He jerked away with shocked gasp. “What? No!”
Sar shook his head. Blood scattered from his muzzle, falling in a shower of droplets onto Elkan. Elkan screamed, his eyes round and horrified. His face blanched, and he crumpled to the ground.
Josiah stood frozen, unable to comprehend what was happening. Sar whirled and seized Josiah’s hand in his bared teeth. Josiah cried out as they ripped through his skin. Sar jerked Josiah’s hand toward his side and let it go. He shoved his hindquarters into Josiah, and Josiah stumbled, flailing for balance. His bleeding hand landed on Sar’s open, bloody wound.
Twenty-Nine
A swirl of golden light clouded Josiah’s vision. The roar of the water and the cries of the trapped people faded into silence. The bitter cold leached from his flesh, replaced by delicious warmth. He seemed to be standing in a golden space, Sar at his side, his hand glued to the donkey’s side by their mingled blood.
Before him stood a slender figure, dressed in a simple white robe, her hair falling in loose chestnut ripples around her shoulders. She gazed at him with deep golden eyes. He couldn’t tell if her expression was sad, or happy, or just infinitely knowing.
Her voice was deep and rich. “Josiah Potterkin Fuller. Are you willing to humble yourself beneath this donkey? Will you allow him to use my power through you?”
Josiah gaped at her. He’d fantasized about a moment like this, but those weren’t the words he’d imagined.
He tried to speak. “M—” His voice refused to come. He tried again, and managed a hoarse stammer. “M—Mother…” He gulped. “I don’t understand. Allow him to use your power? Not me?” He stared at her, baffled.
“That’s right. You’ll work together, but Sar will control my power.”
“Why?” He flushed in shame, dropping his eyes. “It’s because I’m not good enough, isn’t it? I’m not like Elkan, or Master Hadara, or Master Dabiel, someone you can trust to always do the right thing. If I were, you would have chosen me to be a real wizard apprentice.”
She quirked a wry smile at him. “No. Think about it, Josiah. You should be able to figure it out.”
Josiah thought. About everything he knew of wizards. About everything he’d seen Elkan and Sar do together. About what Elkan had asked of Sar a few minutes before, and how he’d asked it. About words he’d thought were merely symbolic. I act not by any will of my own, but only as a channel for the power of the Mother.
“You mean… all wizards�
�� all familiars… All along it was Sar, not Elkan…?”
She nodded. “I ask you the same question I asked Gurion Thricebound, the same I ask every member of the Wizards’ Guild when they come before me, seeking to be bound by blood to an animal I’ve touched. Are you willing to humble yourself beneath him?”
One secret, Elkan had said the Wizards’ Guild had. “But—but—why?”
“Because when people bore my power, they misused it. Because when I took it from the world completely, my children suffered without it. Because you have the freedom to ignore my voice if you choose, and Sar doesn’t.” Beside him Sar gazed calmly at the Mother.
More confused than ever, Josiah shook his head. “But Elkan said that if a wizard tried to use your power against your will, their familiar would break their bond. Isn’t that enough? Why should the animal be the one in control?”
He worried his questions might annoy her, but he needed to understand exactly what she was asking of him. To his relief she seemed pleased rather than bothered.
“If a wizard wanted to use my power for evil, merely requiring a familiar’s touch might not stop him. The animal could refuse to cooperate, but there are those who would make the necessary contact by force. A broken bond would be the only recourse.” Her eyes were sad.
“This way, no misuse is possible. A wizard can ask their familiar to break my Law, but the animal can refuse, and no force can compel them. There’s room for reprimand, and explanation, and the possibility of repentance and greater understanding. A bond need only be broken as a last resort.”
Josiah frowned. “But you decide who gets to join the Wizards’ Guild. Can’t you just not pick anyone who’d want to misuse your power?”
She sighed. “I choose those I think are most likely to serve me well, but sometimes I’m wrong. I’ve given humans free will, and so I can never know for certain who will bear the burden well, and who won’t. Even those I’m most sure of sometimes betray me.”
Josiah gulped. “You didn’t choose me. So you must think I’ll probably mess up, sooner or later.” If he was honest with himself, he could see that his tendency to jump into things without thinking could easily lead to just that.
The Fuller's Apprentice (The Chronicles of Tevenar Book 1) Page 40