by Duncan Pile
A wild roaring filled the air as a cold storm front surged past Gaspi and whipped into Sthycass. The spider-mage staggered backwards, trying to keep his feet, throwing out strikes all the while, but the flow of air only intensified, knocking him to his knees. The fire spirit threw back its head, its body glowing fiercely as it burst into flames. Super-heated air crackled in the magical inferno, the sand around it bubbling as it melted. The spider-mage cried out as the heat hit him. He tried to get to his feet and run but the fire spirit reached out with flame wreathed limbs and grabbed his head. He ignited in an instant, a blazing human torch that wailed in unspeakable torment for an interminable moment before his lungs finally gave out.
The flaming corpse that only seconds ago had been Sthycass collapsed in on itself, bubbling and burning itself out like a candle thrown into a blazing hearth. His body turned to ash, whipped up by the air elemental’s storm and carried across the arena. It descending onto the stunned audience, landing on their clothing and hair, and slipping into their open mouths. Their frozen state of shock descended into chaos as they coughed and retched, spitting it out in disgust as they brushed at themselves furiously.
When the fire spirit stopped burning the spider-mage’s corpse, there was nothing left of it but a blackened smudge in a wider circle of black glass. The spirit transformed to dragon form and flapped to Gaspi’s side. The air spirit transformed back to its bodily form too and came to rest on his shoulder.
“Lilly, see to Taurnil!” he commanded. Seemingly unaffected by the black ball of pestilential energy she had absorbed, Lilly sped to Taurnil, who was now unconscious, lying on the sand of the arena floor. She hovered over him for a moment and then slowly sank down within him, disappearing from sight.
“Taurnil!” a distraught voice cried from the audience, and within moments Lydia, Emea and Rimulth were sprinting across the sand towards them. Voltan was hurtling towards them like a storm, his hawk-like face tight with anger, and Jonn came in his wake. Lydia and Emmy fell on their knees at Taurnil’s side, Lydia’s tear-stained face stricken with worry.
“Emmy do something!” she cried.
“No wait!” Gaspi said, and they both looked at him incredulously.
“Lilly’s doing something. You might interfere,” he said. Emmy lifted her hands from her unconscious friend.
“He’s burning up,” Emmy said, meeting his eyes with concern.
“Give Lilly a chance,” he said, watching Taurnil’s unconscious form intently.
“I feel something,” Emmy said, and suddenly Gaspi knew what was happening.
“Let it happen,” he urged, putting his hand on her shoulder. “It’s Lilly, trying to use you as a conduit for elemental magic.”
Emmy closed her eyes and concentrated, and then she opened her mouth and began to speak. The syllables flowing from her lips weren’t in common, but Gaspi could feel the unmistakable flow of elemental magic. He stared at Taurnil intently, watching for signs that Lilly’s magic was working.
For an agonising moment there was no change, and then slowly, tiny specks of some green substance emerged from the pores of his skin and lifted into the air. Thousands of the minute specks joined the cloud hovering above his body until the flow of particles slowed and then finally stopped. Lilly emerged from Taurnil’s body, her blue form gleaming so brightly it was painful to look at her. She drifted towards the floating cloud of putrescence, using her mysterious powers to compress it, squashing it together until it hung suspended over the ground, a ball of foul liquid gleaming with a sick light. She looked to Loreill, communicating silently with him, and the earth spirit also started to glow brightly. The ground beneath him shifted and cracked, shaking intensely until a fine dust broke the surface and floated into the air. He directed the dust, coating the liquid until it was layered thickly on all sides, its colour completely obscured. With a flash of light, the dust transformed, hardening into a shiny, mineral surface, and the now solid object dropped to the ground, landing with a soft thud in the sand. Loreill continued to glow brightly, and the ground rumbled beneath their feet. The crack widened beneath the hardened mineral ball and drew it down into its depths. When it was gone, the crack slowly sealed itself, and after a few moments the rumbling stopped. Loreill’s fierce glow faded, and he and Lilly transformed simultaneously into bodily form.
Taurnil moaned and rolled to his side, his breathing normal and his skin cool. He opened his eyes and tried to sit up and Lydia was there in a heartbeat. She knelt on the ground behind him and lifted his head, resting it on her lap as she stroked his hair and whispered to him reassuringly.
“What the ruddy hell is going on?” someone said, and Gaspi looked up to see the mayor re-joining them. He noted absent-mindedly that under his hat he was bald as an egg except for a thin ruff of hair over his ears.
“I say!” the mayor exclaimed, looking at the black stain that used to be Sthycass, and the prostrate form of the Skelkan warrior. His mouth opened and closed like that of a fish, words temporarily escaping him. Other people were rushing across the sand behind him; there were several guards from Arkright, responsible for keeping order during the Measure, and alongside them came the healers, flapping anxiously across the sand in their white robes. The mayor finally found his voice just as they all arrived:
“I hope you have some kind of explanation for this,” he blustered, addressing Voltan.
“Are you an idiot?” Voltan spat, stepping right up to him. The mayor blanched in the face of the warrior mage’s furious stare. The guards stepped forwards to intervene but Voltan shot them a look that stopped them in their tracks.
“It’s okay Sven,” the mayor said, waving a pudgy hand at the most highly decorated guard.
“Well, what’s going on?” he asked Voltan feebly.
“The Skelkans were trying to kill Gaspi,” Voltan said, his voice quaking with fury. “Didn’t you see what they were doing? The knife throw at Gaspi’s eyes? The poison-strike he hit Taurnil with? The death strike that would have killed the only Nature Mage in existence if not for these elementals? That was the darkest necromancy!”
“Necromancy?” the mayor squeaked. “But that’s against the law.”
“Of course it’s against the law!” Voltan said, at the limit of his patience.
The mayor peered uncertainly at the four spirits, all of whom had now resumed bodily form. “What are these creatures?”
“That doesn’t matter now!” Voltan snapped. “The point is, they have stopped the foulest of crimes and saved Gaspi’s life, and they probably just saved Taurnil’s too.”
“But they…burned him alive!” the mayor said, glancing uneasily at the blackened circle of glass.
“What else was there to do?” Voltan asked. “If the Skelkans were willing to break the law in front of all these witnesses, what’s to say they wouldn’t do anything they could to kill Gaspi if we allowed them a moment’s respite? I assure you that the elementals are not vengeful creatures. They would only kill under the most severe of provocations, when the Nature Mage’s life is in real danger.”
The mayor looked uncertainly between Voltan and the smudge that had been Sthycass. “I will take everything you’ve said into account and take advice. We will speak with you shortly,” he said, turning to leave.
“Hold on,” Voltan said, and the mayor turned around reluctantly to face him. “Did the spider-mage have any access to the staff?” he asked, indicating the mayor’s enchanted staff of office.
“Well…what’s that got to do with anything?” he blustered.
“Do you think that the Skelkans would have attempted to murder anyone they fought?” Voltan asked with thinly veiled contempt. “If not, then it is not a coincidence that they were called to fight against Gaspi. So once again, did he have access to the staff?”
“Yes,” the mayor muttered, his shoulders drooping in defeat. “He asked to see it yesterday, but that’s not unusual,” he added. Gaspi thought it sounded more like a plea than a defence. “We wi
ll return shortly,” he said, and turned to go once more. “See to the warrior,” he said to the healers.
“I think you’ll find he’s dead,” Voltan said. “Being dropped on your head from a height will do that!”
“Take the body away then,” the mayor said, clearly upset with how much of a mess his tournament had become. He led the guards away across the sand, heading for the judging panel, and the healers removed the body of the Skelkan warrior. Gaspi swallowed noisily as they levitated the corpse and led it away across the sand. He’d killed someone? He had killed demons before, but never a person. Breaking into a cold sweat, he grabbed hold of the nearest person, who happened to be Voltan.
“Come with me,” the warrior mage said with uncharacteristic gentleness, leading him across the sand. The ground lurched beneath his feet and Gaspi clung on tight, letting himself be supported. When he was seated Voltan lifted a tankard of water to his lips, forcing him to take a sip. Hundreds of black dots filled his sight, swamping his vision and removing all sense of up and down. The skin of his scalp prickled horribly, cold sweat soaking his hair in moments. He was sure he was going to pass out, but then a cool hand touched his forehead, bringing him back to himself. A flow of reassurance came from that hand, grounding him, holding him, and slowly his vision returned. Opening his eyes he saw Emmy in front of him, soft white light surrounding her extended hand as she poured healing energy into him. He let the flow continue, holding her gaze all the while. He didn’t think he’d ever seen a more beautiful sight. When his equilibrium was fully restored, he reached up and placed a hand over hers, lifting it away from his forehead.
“Thanks Emmy,” he said quietly, and she leaned in to kiss his cheek, the tears on her face wetting his own as she pressed her cheek against his. Gaspi allowed himself to think again about what had upset him so much - he had killed someone. It was still shocking, but he felt removed from it, as if he’d had time to deal with it, and the sharp edges of the painful memory had been rounded off.
“What did you do?” he asked Emmy, who was still holding him tightly.
She pulled back and examined him, her eyes peering intently into his. “It was a combination of neuromancy and healing. It just came to me.”
“It worked,” Gaspi said gratefully. Loreill had been waiting frantically for Emmy’s healing to be complete, and as soon as she stepped back and sat down next to him, the spirit rushed up his leg and wrapped himself around his neck, deep concern emanating through the bond. Gaspi stroked Loreill’s furry body appreciatively, reassuring him that he was okay. He could only imagine how frantic the spirit would have been during the fight. Jonn, Taurnil, Lydia, Rimulth and Voltan had been joined by Stragos, Everand, Jaim and Baard, and they all looked on with worried expressions. Gaspi smiled at them bravely.
“It’s okay,” he said. “Emmy’s done some kind of healing. There’s honestly no need to worry about me.” Jonn raised a sceptical eyebrow, and others seemed to share his disbelief. “Seriously, stop worrying!” Gaspi insisted, receiving reluctant nods and noises of assent. “So what happens now?” he asked.
“We wait to hear from the mayor,” Voltan said, “but rest assured, we will not subject ourselves to local justice. If they cause us any trouble, I will just use this,” he added, pulling the enchanted amulet from his pocket. Gaspi had something much more pressing on his mind than what the mayor had to say.
“Why were those Skelkans trying to kill us?” he asked.
“I honestly don’t know,” Voltan answered. “I need to speak to Hephistole about it. To be honest I think we should abandon the tournament and transport back to Helioport immediately. This was meant to be an exercise in martial magic, not a fight to the death!”
“No!” Taurnil said sternly. “We came to fight and we should stay to the end.”
“Things have changed Taurnil,” Jonn interjected.
“Nothing’s changed,” Taurnil retorted. “Those Skelkans are dead so the danger’s over, right?”
“You might be right but I don’t want to take the risk,” Voltan said.
“I think we should wait a bit longer Voltan,” Jonn interjected. “We’re representing the college, remember, and if we leave now we make it too easy for the mayor to blame us for what happened in our absence. We should at least stay to make sure things are done properly, and then we can leave if we still want to.”
Voltan frowned, clearly unhappy with the situation. “Okay, but all of you stay close. I want to be ready to leave at a moment’s notice.”
Fifty-Three
As they waited for the mayor to return, Gaspi thought back over the battle with the Skelkans. Regardless of his powerful gift, they had shown him and Taurnil up like they were total beginners. Yes, they’d won the first bout, but only because Gaspi’s enchantments had proven to be stronger than the spider mage’s, which had nothing to do with skill in battle. Gaspi just happened to be the more powerful mage, but if he hadn’t been, Taurnil would have been out of the fight in the first exchange when that trident had scored across his chest, or moments later when that kick had been aimed at his face. In the second bout he’d missed with his own strike and failed to protect Taurnil from…what had Voltan called it? A poison-strike. And if it hadn’t been for the elementals, that last spell, the death strike, would have been the end of him; he knew it in his bones.
He shuddered at the thought, grateful beyond description for the spirits’ protection. Lilly had saved his life and the air and fire spirits had dealt with the spider-mage. Sensing Gaspi’s emotions through the bond, Loreill chittered in response, equally grateful for his fellow spirits’ intervention. Gaspi was quickly getting too hot with the elemental around his neck on a warm spring day, but he appreciated the closeness in that moment, and let Loreill stay where he was. He rested there, letting Loreill and Emmy’s companionship comfort him while they waited. He looked around at the increasingly restless crowd and the rest of the teams still waiting to fight, and felt a cold chill as he caught sight of Ferast sitting nearby, watching Emmy intently with glittering eyes. He winced inwardly. He’d hoped to keep her presence a secret from him, but there was no hiding it now.
He opened his mouth to speak to Emmy about it, but just then, the mayor returned, accompanied by his retinue of guards. He still hadn’t replaced his colourful hat, and mopped his bald pate with a damp handkerchief. He lifted his staff so his voice would be magically amplified to the audience.
“THE MATTER HAS BEEN DISCUSSED WITH MY JUDGING PANEL,” he began. “GASPI WILL NOT BE HELD ACCOUNTABLE FOR THE DEATH OF STHYCASS.” Emmy breathed a huge sigh of relief next to him. “FURTHERMORE, STHYCASS WOULD HAVE BEEN DISQUALIFIED FROM THE MEASURE FOR USING ILLEGAL NECROMANCY, AND AS SUCH GASPI IS DECLARED THE RIGHTFUL WINNER OF THE MATCH, AND IS INVITED TO RETURN TOMORROW TO COMPETE IN THE SECOND ROUND.” With a silly little bow, he turned and walked back across the arena, scooping up his hat from where it lay on the ground as he went.
“Well that’s a relief,” Gaspi said.
“About blooming time,” Taurnil responded.
“Voltan?” Jonn asked, looking to the warrior mage, who still looked troubled.
“I don’t know,” he answered, showing unusual uncertainty.
“Why not go to my place in town and think it over?” Stragos offered. “It’ll be safe there and you can take your time.”
“Good idea,” Voltan said. “Everyone can wait there while I transport to Helioport and talk with Hephistole.” Getting them out of the immediate area seemed to appease Voltan’s need to act, and Gaspi thought it was a measure of Taurnil’s desire to continue to compete that he didn’t object; his friend would have been very keen to watch the rest of the combat, but this was the only way to give them a chance to fight tomorrow
“But we haven’t competed yet!” Everand protested.
Voltan looked at him carefully for a moment before turning to Jaim. “Will you stay with Everand and Baard and bring them back once the day’s fighting is over?” he asked.
/> “Of course,” Jaim answered.
“Thanks Jaim,” Everand said.
“Not a problem,” he responded, and turned to confer with Stragos, getting directions to his apartment.
When Jaim was confident he knew the way, the rest of them left the arena with Stragos and walked back up the road to Arkright. When they reached the town, the fat magician led them through the streets until they turned into a quiet and spacious courtyard, surrounded on all sides by expansive apartments.
“Used to be a college,” he said, and led them up a series of stone steps built against the right hand wall of the courtyard, at the top of which was a broad blue door with a heavy brass handle. He opened it up and let them in, closing the door behind them. He ushered them into a comfortably appointed living room, and bustled off to the kitchen to brew up a large pot of tea. When he was out of the room, Jonn sat down next to Emmy to speak to her.
“Emmy, what did you do to Gaspi?” he asked intently.
“Er, well it was kind of like healing,” she answered. “I used the same healing energies I use to treat physical wounds, but I used them on his mind instead. It’s like I could sense the part of his thoughts that was causing him pain, and I just…healed it.”
“Gasp, what did that feel like?” he asked. “I mean, what’s the difference between how you felt before and how you felt after she did it?”
Gaspi couldn’t understand the reason behind Jonn’s intensity, but he tried to explain as best he could.
“Well, before she did…whatever she did, I was in shock. The thought that I’d killed someone tore at me, and I felt like I couldn’t deal with it at all. To be honest, I was on the verge of blacking out, but then Emmy touched me, and when she’d finished I felt like it happened years ago instead of only minutes ago. The thought was still horrible, but not as shocking anymore - like I’d learned how to deal with it.”