The Young Magician tlt-1

by Michael Foster

  Samuel squealed with uncontrolled fright and the creature lashed out with one pasty, white arm towards him. He threw his feet out and dropped onto the ground as its blood-stained fingers flew by his face. He remembered his shield and reformed the spell around him as quickly as he could.

  The creature tilted its head and took a sideways step, as if examining him. It seemed to be able to feel his spell in place, for it did not attack immediately as he expected. It half circled him and stooped its head to examine closely. Samuel trembled and concentrated with all his might on maintaining his spell, for its breath was foul and acrid. He suddenly felt frail and weak beneath the awful thing’s unblinking gaze and he could feel his power waning. Putting its arm forward, the creature pushed its palm flat against Samuel’s shield, but it could not touch him through the spell, fortified as it was with tiny, earthen fragments. Then, the thing began to push harder and Samuel began to slide backwards on his backside, pushed within his own spell. Its hand began to come closer and so Samuel concentrated on his spell, pushing all his will into keeping the creature at bay. It continued to push him until his back was hard up against the well and then Samuel realised his mistake. The creature kept pushing, and, with nowhere to go, its grasping hand came ever closer towards his face. The stones at his back began to crack and fall away into the well shaft and still the creature pushed its claw in towards him. The air itself began to press on Samuel’s shoulders, making him feel as if he was already being buried in stone. Samuel pushed everything he could into his spell and the creature’s hand was inches from his cheek, when a voice called out from afar.

  ‘Samuel! Now!’

  He did not know whose voice it was, but immediately after he heard it, it seemed the sky fell down. A great slab of stone shattered upon the monster’s head and rained pieces of rubble all around. Samuel’s shield was battered and he felt his body tremble with each blow. Huge lengths of stone and wood began pelting down upon him, shaking his bones and deafening his ears. With dread, he realised his shielding spell was terribly underprepared to match such weight.

  Samuel looked up to see another greater mass of stone, an entire length of wall carried by the spells of Master Glim and Lomar, looming above him. The creature spied it too and forced itself to stand up with a guttural snarl from its throat, shaking the broken rubble from its shoulders. Just then, the spells carrying the great length of wall vanished, and Samuel threw himself backwards into the well as cracking thunder struck around him.

  The earth shook with a deafening roar as Samuel plummeted into the darkness. Stones and dust were in his throat and eyes as he fell. He just realised he should try to slow his descent with a spell, when he slammed into shallow water and then felt rubble and ruins tumble atop of him, striking his back and head and pushing him further under water. His hands found earth underneath and he pushed his head up and into the air and took a great breath. Dust filled his lungs and set him into a choking fit as he put his sleeve over his face to filter the air. He readied himself to be buried alive, as more pebbles and stones continued to fall; but instead of smothering him, the rain of asphyxiating fragments gradually subsided. When the shaking had eventually come to a stop, Samuel found himself in utter darkness.

  He stood, feeling water up to his knees, but he could see nothing. The air was full of dust and Samuel gagged and coughed until he pulled his shirt up over his mouth. After a few moments, he gathered his wits and strained to look above for some hint of sunlight or some sound of rescue, but the well was deep and his ears still rang from all the noise of just before. He summoned a mage-light and it burst into life beside him, illuminating the bottom of the well with its bluish hue. Far above, he could see that the shaft was blocked and ruined, and dust and rubble continued to drop down on him. Samuel did not like to assume the stone would stay there, precariously balanced as it was. He thought it best if he moved rather quickly before his luck ran any lower.

  An underground tunnel was visible in the gloom, leading away in opposite directions. He would have to find somewhere safe to stay until his friends dug him out. This was not quite what he had in mind when he had made his plan, but he was alive and it would have to do for now. His friends would find him eventually. It just might take them some time to move the masses of earth that lay above-assuming the creature was, indeed, dead.

  To stay here was quite unsafe, so Samuel regarded his two choices of direction thoughtfully. The beast had dragged the bodies somewhere, so he knew that there was a fair amount of space down here-enough to store those men at least. Samuel then had a dreadful thought that had him looking over his shoulder into the dark corners-he hoped there was only one such creature living in this well.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The Precious Breath

  It took only a dozen steps for Samuel to discover why the water level was only knee deep. Something-perhaps the creature or perhaps the men of the keep-had completely blocked one end with stones and earth; to what end, Samuel could not begin to fathom. Perhaps the creature enjoyed its new abode, but preferred it a little less damp, or maybe the magicians’ spells, in their attempts to destroy the beast, had brought a part of the roof of the tunnel down. Whatever the reason, this direction offered no escape and so Samuel turned about and headed back to try the other way.

  Returning to below the well shaft, a great lump of earth fell down with an echoing splash, an ominous reminder of the danger of the situation. Samuel peered up, with dreadful thoughts of the whole tunnel collapsing and burying him alive. As he edged past the shaft, a second chunk splashed behind him, wetting his back and head. He shuddered with its cold embrace against his skin and spelled himself a little warmer. It was about all he could manage at present, as exhausted as he was, but he was momentarily thankful for his magician’s gifts. His confrontation with the creature, followed by the harrowing fall, had left him in a frail state. There was not much magic left in him to be had-although that was not strictly true, he reminded himself. Magic was always present in vast quantities. It existed in and around every living thing. It was merely his mortal body which was worn and tired, unable to channel in its haggard state. If only he was somehow refreshed and rejuvenated, he could be out of there in moments. Unfortunately, he needed time to recover his strength.

  He continued along past the main shaft, sending mage-lights out to illuminate the walls. He did not want anything jumping out and surprising him. It would be enough to scare him to death at the moment. Then again, someone could walk straight up to him with a hammer and pound him on the head and there would be little he could do about it. The thought made him shudder once more.

  The tunnel curved to the left and Samuel followed it cautiously. The water was deeper in the middle, but only up to his knees at the sides, so Samuel kept his feet to each edge, shuffling along with his hands pressed against both walls to maintain his balance. It was slower going, but it took only a moment to discover that this way was also blocked. A short distance ahead, illuminated by his lights, was a wall of solid stone.

  Samuel’s heart sank. He waded up to it, pushing through the water with determination and almost fell into a deep circular pool at the tunnel’s end. Shallow at its edges, the water was black as night at its centre, seeming to go down into the bowels of the earth. Hopefully, it would lead somewhere safe, somewhere where he could rest or find his way to the surface. His life depended on it.

  There was a stirring in the pattern, and the stone around him shuddered as spells were cast above. Flecks of stone dropped from the roof. From back near the shaft, a splash sounded, as if other, larger pieces were crashing down. His friends were trying to unearth him and Samuel hoped they were being careful. The stone all around was fractured and brittle. It would not take too much more to flatten this tiny tunnel and him inside it.

  Samuel returned his attention to his escape and sent a mage-light down into the dark waters. Its light did not penetrate far, but he could see it going down some distance into the black depths before he felt the furthe
r resistance of his spell meeting more stone. Somewhere down there, there would have to be some way for the water to move on. This was part of a natural underground system in the area and so would eventually meet other such tunnels. He could just not be sure which of those would have air and which would be filled completely with water. The creature, after all, had dragged its bodies down here and must have put them somewhere. It seemed to have been storing its food for later. Somewhere, through this pool, must be another cavern that the creature had used as its larder.

  There was another tremor in the fabric of the pattern and the tunnel was shaken once more, more violently, causing Samuel to brace himself between the smooth walls. The earth groaned all around and a loud crash of falling earth sounded down the tunnel. Samuel froze, expecting the roof to fall upon him at any instant but, after a nervous moment, no such end to him came. Ripples came lapping against his thighs, but all else was quiet once again.

  If he was a common magician, the others above would perhaps be able to sense him and know of his well-being. Unfortunately, unless he was channelling some powerful magic, he was invisible to them all. What was previously a boon to him was now a curse. They could not know whether he was alive or dead, or even where he was. Their only choice would be to slowly dig their way down and hope they could reach him before they buried him alive.

  The walls trembled once again and a straining groan crept through all the rocks around, chased by a series of cracking and clacking sounds. That was enough for Samuel. Taking his lights with him, he stepped into the freezing waters and, taking as great a breath as he could, he dived down and kicked towards the freezing depths. His mage-lights threw a ghoulish blue hue onto the pale, stone walls around him. Tiny colourless things wriggled and danced before his eyes.

  Samuel spied a dark opening just below him and began to swim through it, kicking into a narrow shaft that went straight back up to mirror the first. His lungs had begun to burn, craving air. He fought upwards with all his resolve, desperate for some sign of salvation. His mage-lights reflected a silver wall above him and he kicked towards it with all his resolve. Expecting some kind of resistance, he was surprised when the barrier vanished on contact and he found himself breaking through onto the surface. His lungs pulled in a great gulp of air and he immediately felt sweet relief. A second breath followed quickly and, after a time, still kicking all the while to keep his head above surface, the craving in his chest slowly yielded. It was only then, as he began to take note of his surroundings, that Samuel noticed the rancid odour that saturated the air, like festering meat.

  The edge was smooth and without purchase, so Samuel had to kick with considerable effort to get himself up onto the tunnel floor. He lay like a stunned fish, shivering to the bone until the soreness had eased in his legs. The stone floor was cold and hard against his wet cheek, but he lacked the energy to even lift his head. As his breaths slowed, Samuel finally had the chance to survey the tunnel and hope there was nothing here with him. He rolled over and managed to climb woodenly to his feet. His clothes were sodden and freezing against his skin. His boots were full of water. All he could do was hug himself for warmth with his hands pushed into his armpits. Thankfully, his mage-lights were still with him, hovering not too far away and no other creatures had yet swept down to swallow him.

  This tunnel was narrower, although much taller than the first and led down at a steady gradient. The walls were filled with crevices and cracks, and it was from these that hung the arms, legs and bodies of Captain Orrell’s Royal Guards. Their carcasses were stuffed firmly into the narrow openings, hanging out somewhat where they would not entirely fit. Sticky fluids trickled from many of them, oozing down the walls to form a pool on the floor. The sight sent a shiver running up his spine.

  A further boom shook the walls all around and Samuel found himself hurrying along as best he could on the slippery stones. From far ahead, running water could be heard and he continued towards it, past the men who glared out at him with lifeless, bulging eyes and mouths locked open in endless, silent screams. There were other men also pushed into the cracks here. Some wore armour and others the clothes of magicians. All were mangled and still. Now, at least, Samuel knew what had happened to the unfortunate occupants of the keep.

  Sebastian had said that there was only one such creature and Samuel was beginning to feel that the madman had spoken the truth. If there were more monstrosities in the cavern, they surely would have shown themselves by now. Still, Samuel eyed the many empty fissures and dark corners with dreadful anticipation as he passed them by. His heart could not help sounding a steady rhythm against his ribs.

  He had been walking for some time, ever downwards. His shivering had begun to subside, yet his limbs felt weighted with lead. The rumblings had been left far behind and only the increasingly loud echo of rushing water could be heard still ahead. The tunnel then began to grow smaller once more, its sides slick and smooth, until Samuel came to the point where he could see its end. Angling down sharply, the tunnel formed into a narrow sluice. Samuel judged it to be treacherously slippery, and cautiously he began down, placing each footstep with the utmost care lest he should slip and fall to some jagged death. The stone had been worn as slick as ice where the underground stream had run its course for years unknown.

  The sound of water had become a roar and Samuel could feel moisture thick in the air. He managed to slide cautiously down the tunnel on his backside, until he came to a gaping drop at its end. An underground river surged below-a thundering torrent of white water rushing by, illuminated by his hovering mage-lights. The tunnel edge was treacherous and slippery and Samuel had to keep his hands pushed out firmly against the walls to hold himself in place.

  To the left of this opening, almost within arms’ reach, the river began, surging furiously from the stone and dropping down far below. There, the white foaming water swirled and bubbled and rushed away through a black opening. Samuel craned his neck out and scanned the walls for any other openings, but was disappointed to find only flat stone. He waited there in the tunnel mouth for some feeling of resolve to help him choose his fate. There was nowhere to go but down, out through that crack.

  As he sat there, frozen and miserable, his worst fears began to be realised. His mage-lights, which had been growing smaller all the while, began winking out. There was no energy left with which to support them and so, one by one, they faded from existence, leaving him in complete and utter darkness. ‘Damn,’ was all he could think to say, but the word was lost amongst the roar of the water.

  The shivering magician sat, propped at the tunnel’s edge, and waited for something to happen, some miracle to come and return even a little of his strength, but nothing did. Still, he sat and shivered in the darkness and nothing else occurred except for the water’s endless roaring and falling and surging and gurgling. He had hoped that, given time, he would feel stronger again, but all he felt now was the desire to lie down and die and, with each passing moment, the prospect only became all the more inviting. Lost in the darkness and the river’s roar, Samuel could barely feel his existence at all. Most of his body was now numb. Only his thoughts remained as evidence he was still living at all.

  Taking one last heavy breath and forcing his rigid arms to relax, he leant forward and let himself topple into the void. Hurtling down into the total darkness, his body felt almost weightless. The air blew a cool breath into his face, like a final tender kiss. Then the water struck him with a violent slap and it thundered in his ears.

  Sudden shocking cold entered him as he plunged into the freezing depths, with roaring and babbling in his ears. The weight of the waterfall fell upon him and drove him further down, the immense weight crushing him. His eyes were open, yet could see nothing. He kicked and found air and cried out with shock and pain before being dragged under once more. He could feel motion as the water carried him and then it sucked at him and for an instant there was air again and he took half a gulping breath before being sucked under and tossed an
d turned every which way. Rocks struck at his knees and elbows and head, and he careered into and over them at the current’s whim. He took a great mouthful of water as again he was pulverised, and he vomited at once before being forced to take another watery breath.

  Then there was light and Samuel spilled out into vacant air. He caught a glimpse of a vast, underground lake in a dimly-lit cavern; then he splashed down, swallowed once more by the icy waters. He fought with the last of his strength for the surface and came up, coughing and emptying water from his stomach once more. He could barely tread water as he tried to overcome the horrible nausea that filled him. The water was in his boots and pulled him down with each kick. His breathing was frantic and he had no goal but to desperately keep his chin above the water. Something struck his boots and Samuel kicked out, feeling hard rock. He took a tenuous step and, finding more firm stone under his foot, he struggled forward. Each step raised him higher until he was only wading up to his thighs-yet the water felt like molasses around him. His body felt enormous-almost as if strings were tied around him and were pulling him down relentlessly. He drove himself towards a nearby island of stone. Step after step he forced himself on until, utterly exhausted, he struggled out of the water and collapsed on the hard stone floor. He coughed and retched out copious amounts of water as he rolled onto his side, labouring for breath. His entire body felt ruined. His muscles had been screaming for relief and now they had it, they ached in entirely new and excruciating ways. Still, he was alive. For the first time, he managed to form a conscious thought: By the gods! I am still alive!

  He lay panting and coughing for what seemed like hours, slipping in and out of consciousness, until the skittering of some tickling insect across his face, roused him back to awareness.