by Jim Galford
Put me in a den with my children and tell me to be a nursemaid, and I would happily dedicate my life to it. Tell me that I am to be my mate’s humble servant until the day I die, and I would probably laugh at you, but wouldn’t really object when it came right down to it. But put me in the middle of a war against creatures far stronger than any mortal—some of them even revered as true old gods—and then take away my one real weapon, and I will feel inadequate. I believe anyone would, given the situation.
Oria, Alyana, Rinam, Theldis...if you get to read this, for this one moment, I want you to forget that your parents are trying to save the world and instead take a look at the really badly drawn dragon in the corner of this page. I’m not saying dragons are real. Please reread the last paragraph and then marvel at how badly I drew a DRAGON.
Also, please do not show this to any old elven women.
“I say again, I have no plan,” Turess said as Estin began to wake.
Groggily, Estin tried to stand but realized he could not feel his legs. His next thought was to his tail, but he could not move anything. His whole body felt as though it were cushioned and numb, hanging limply in the air, as though he were wrapped tightly in pillows.
His attention not so much focusing on, but rather drifting toward the speaker, Estin tried to figure out where he was and who was talking. Slowly, the foggy haze on his mind cleared slightly, and Estin could make out Feanne and Turess in a wide open area filled with priests, soldiers, and what he could only guess to be politicians or other nobility-minded people. Only the soldiers, Turess, and Feanne were at the table where maps lay spread out, though Rishad was making a point of peeking over Turess’s shoulder at them.
“I will not leave without a clear plan,” Feanne was saying, clearly arguing with Turess. It was the first time he had seen the two of them really talk, let alone angrily.
“We all die here if we do not begin marching, with or without plan,” Turess insisted. “My brother will not wait. We must not either. We all lose people. Accept your loss and use anger to fight for others.”
Screaming, Feanne threw everything off the table between them and walked away, covering her face. As she went, Estin could see Turess and Rishad exchange glances, followed by Rishad shaking his head slightly.
“Your mate is losing control of the situation,” Mairlee said, appearing beside Estin. For some reason, he could not look at himself, no matter how he tried. “I had not thought things would fall apart so quickly. The anger that comes with the Miharon’s magic makes her want to destroy what bothers her, but anxiety cannot be bitten.”
“Where are we?” Estin asked, still unable to feel anything. No one in the area would look at him, and he could not manage more than an airy whisper. “How long were we gone?”
Smiling at him, Mairlee said, “Doesn’t matter. I’ve caught what’s left of you, and I’ll rebuild your body here. It will hurt.”
“My body?” Estin could not see himself at all. When he tried to look down at himself, that same soft pressure kept him from moving. “What did you do to me? Am I dead?”
“Yes and no. We’ll see which of the two conditions sticks in a moment. You can thank me later, if you survive. If you don’t, I will be hiding under a mountain from your mate.”
An explosion of pain flooded Estin’s body, and he hit the smooth stone ground with so much force that he could well have fallen twenty feet or farther. Every inch of his skin burned, and he screamed as he curled into a ball. He wrapped his tail around himself as sensations, sounds, and even his own movement made his body and mind hurt. Weeping, he pulled up his knees to cover his face, using his tail to protect himself from the light and sound that stung every inch of exposed skin. Even his fur seemed to tingle painfully.
“Estin!” Feanne cried, as a shadow came over Estin. Rough hands pulled at his tail, trying to reach his face, but he could not make himself relax through the agony. “Look at me, Estin. Can you hear me?”
Trembling, Estin let Feanne pry his hands off his face, though he had to squeeze his eyes shut to block out the light. She dragged him off the ground and pulled him into a tight hug that, despite how much it hurt, was the most wonderful sensation of his life. Slowly, he tried to put his arms around her, but his muscles refused to move the way he demanded of them.
“Where’ve you been?” she demanded, holding him so tightly that Estin could barely breathe. “I’ve had scouts looking everywhere. You vanished with Mairlee more than a week ago…”
Estin managed to pull away and stare at Feanne, who was hurriedly wiping tears off her face. Dozens of humans around them watched. Putting his hand to her cheek, which she happily grabbed and pressed more firmly, he asked through the raspiness in his throat, “A week? Are you sure?”
“Very,” she assured him, almost frantic as she touched the scars on his face, his shoulder, and even traced the ones on his hands. She seemed to be trying to convince herself that he was real. “I didn’t think I’d see you again. Turess wanted us to leave.”
From behind Estin, Turess replied testily, “I did not want to leave your husband. I wanted to keep rest of city alive.”
The flickering light from overhead finally forced Estin to close his eyes again and shield his face. “Can we go indoors somewhere?” he asked, and Feanne ripped a cloak off a soldier nearby and threw it over Estin’s shoulders. It was then he realized he was naked. “This sunlight is killing me.”
Feanne put a hand over his brow to keep his eyes out of the light, letting him open them again. She looked worried and scared, her ears nearly flat as she studied him. “Estin, it’s nearly midnight.”
Looking up slowly, Estin saw the light that so stung his body was actually little more than torchlight. He lay in the middle of the temple of Jnodin, staring up at the dim stars far overhead. Between the torches and the top of the temple walls, he could make out the etched runes Turess had worked with his magic during Feanne’s presentation to the people of the city. Those runes were flickering and flashing, occasionally even sparking as pale blue lightning licked across the pattern of them. In several spots, the runes were actually burned and dark, the stone around them blackened.
“What’s happening?” he asked, wincing as the flare from another rune sparking made his skin itch. Somehow those symbols and their magic were raking at his flesh like nails on sunburned skin.
Feanne said nothing. Instead, she pulled Estin into a hug and tightened the cloak around him.
After several seconds, Turess finally took a knee near Estin and said, “The mists are here. They have closed much of the way south, and both the eastern and western gates are overrun. We need to abandon city. In hours, we have no way out.”
Estin sat up straight, looking to Feanne for confirmation. She pointedly looked away.
“You were keeping a city’s population in the path of the mists to wait for me? Feanne, you should have gone by now if it’s that bad.”
“I trusted that Turess could keep us protected a little longer,” she said, still unwilling to look at him.
Clearing his throat, Turess pulled off a glove and held up his hand. Faint streams of energy bounced from one fingertip to the next, barely lighting his palm. “This is all magic I can manage, so close to mists. They are drawing everything from city. Soon, runes will collapse and city will die within minutes after. There is not enough magic here to slow mists long, though Rishad will be first target. Everything with any spark of magic will be consumed.”
“I…what?” asked Rishad, looking between Estin and Turess. “I said we should go. Why would I be a target?”
“Mists consume magic to live,” Turess explained, without looking back at Rishad. “Whatever you have become gives you tie to nearly limitless magic. They do not know that you cannot access much. The mists see you for the greater whole of your kind. Once we are gone, they will seek out every creature like you in the world. After that, they will consume anything they can find that contains magic, including my relics. Last, they will wi
pe life from Eldvar, consuming tiny fragment of magic that keeps life within our bodies. They then will starve and disappear, but not before leaving world as barren husk.”
Feanne slid her arm under Estin’s shoulder and helped him stand, before saying quietly, “Turess, you have done this before. I have not. Give the order to march. I trust that you know what we have to do.”
Turess nodded and bowed, but then added, “May I remind you…I did not win the last war. I put my people into exile to lead mists away from rest of empire.”
“You didn’t have my mate and I at your side last time,” she said, smiling coyly. “Two wildlings will be enough, I am sure. Give the order.”
His concerned look fading to one of remembering something unpleasant, Turess agreed. “Yes…having a wildling helping and not leaving you to fend for yourself may be enough. I will give order to the army.”
Turess started to walk away, but then hesitated over near the altar. He slowly unwrapped the thick chain that he had worn around one wrist since they had begun traveling with him and laid it reverently on the altar. When he saw Rishad, Estin, and Feanne watching him, he explained, “Chain contains much magic, meant to protect against the elements. With it, bearer cannot freeze, bake, or many other gruesome deaths. Also lets wearer use some magic of flame and ice. At time, it seemed a good thing to have. Now, we will leave it here for the mists. Will slow them for maybe hour or more. Give us more time to run. When runes fail, they will come for this first and look for us later.”
Reaching up to his neck, Estin found that despite all of his clothing having been lost by whatever Mairlee had done to him, the simple leather necklace with its single black feather still hung there. As he touched it, he saw Turess glance over at him. “Should I leave this, too?” he asked, holding it up.
Turess shook his head. “That must stay with you for now. It has not found its purpose yet.”
“How will I know when it has?”
Smiling sadly, Turess turned and walked away.
“You owe me an explanation,” Feanne told Estin. “We are not leaving until you tell me where you’ve been.”
Estin smiled weakly and shrugged. “Dead, or close to it. I’ll explain as we go. I…I don’t know everything, so there’ll be a few things I can’t tell yet. You’ll just have to trust that this was for the best.”
*
By dawn, the entire city had mobilized. From where Estin stood atop the north wall, he could see tens of thousands of people moving steadily into the wastes of Turessi, most looking back longingly at Jnodin, the only home they had ever known. Hundreds of wagons lumbered among the people of Jnodin, carrying what little food and supplies they could take with them.
Once the throng of people had gone a short distance from the walls, they parted into two distinct groups—something Turess and Feanne had agreed upon. The soldiers and those who would help support them said their good-byes and continued north, while the rest of the population trekked toward the east. Turess had suggested the departure after noticing the mists had left a gap in that direction, where the citizens of Jnodin could escape. In another few hours, no one expected that gap to still exist. Soon enough, the people would be divided, possibly forever, with those in Turessi surrounded by the mists. Those people leaving were helpless if found by the Turessians, having not one wizard among them, largely to help ensure the mists ignored them.
It was a somber sight watching the people go. Estin had watched far too many refugees sadly leaving their homes over the years, but these people had managed to weather the majority of the war, only to be sent packing by a cloud. It was humbling and terrifying at the same time. Had it not been for the mists, they and any other cities like them out there might have made it through the war unscathed.
Turning to the south, Estin could easily see the mists closing in on Jnodin. The faint glow covered much of the southeastern section of the city, slowed momentarily by whatever magic Turess had woven over the temple. It spread along the wall of magic, sweeping over any section of the city that it could reach, tearing away entire sections of the stone walls. Every hour or two, the mists would suddenly lurch, advancing into the city another few hundred feet. What Turess had once said would keep the mists miles away now only kept them about a mile from the temple itself.
“How long until the last of them is out?” Estin finally asked, forcing himself to look away from the mists. They were almost hypnotic, making it difficult to keep his thoughts straight.
“Any minute now,” Turess confirmed, leaning on the wall beside Estin. “I do wish this was first time I have seen this. I lost five cities this way before I found right magic to deter the mists. Rather, until Nenophar showed right magic.”
“Can we hold out?”
Turess eyed Estin skeptically before shrugging. “Last time, cloud came through hole in the world to feed, not to survive. This time, is much more determined. It likely does not even see us, only feels the magic it needs to feed on to live. A cornered or starved animal is far more deadly…same applies to mists. No offense meant about animal.”
Estin watched as one of the guard towers in the south seemed to turn transparent before vanishing entirely. It would not be long now before the mists had the majority of the southeastern city engulfed. “Is Turessi any safer?”
Turess scowled at that. “Horrible name for the place. Was supposed to be temporary only until we had starved the mists. Less magic in the north. I made choice and am to blame for it. My people were to go back to their cities after a generation of hiding. Still, I built large structure in north that every wizard across eight lands worked to shield against mists. Jnodin and other cities were my quick attempts to spare lives. Place felt like grave. Was why I called it the bones of my empire. Was never meant to hold the mists forever.”
“You know your brother is sitting at the middle of that shield, right?”
Nodding, Turess said nothing.
“Can you stop him?”
“No,” Turess admitted, glancing both ways down the wall to be sure no one was listening. “Dorralt is better wizard than I. With two thousand years and hundreds more wizards linked to him, I am little better than small and annoying bug. I only matter because he think our people will follow me.”
“What does that make me, if you’re a bug? They consider you one of the greatest wizards of all time.”
Turess glanced over at Estin, smiling and shaking his head. “Never trust old stories. They lie very much. What this all makes you is a better man than I. You found your love and kept her, no matter cost. I lost everything, only to empower my insane brother. I would trade an eternity of praise on my name for a day as you, Estin. Not to take what you have, but to enjoy the same type of blessings that you do. Would never wish to take from you.”
Estin reached out to pat the man’s shoulder, but Turess flinched away in much the same way Estin remembered Dalania doing. After a moment, he let his hand drop. “Why the prohibition on touching among your people?”
“Was not meant to be so,” Turess said, smiling as he looked down at Estin’s hand on the wall. “I had bad beginnings as leader. You understand…I have seen your scars. I endured much pain, until I shied away from any contact.”
Leaning back onto the wall, watching the mists slowly approach, Estin said, “I welcomed the pain of the whip.”
“Your breed likes pain? Was not something I would have guessed.”
“No,” Estin laughed, getting a chuckle from Turess as well. “We’d rather run from anything that even hints at pain. When I was taken captive, I had my children with me. Every time the taskmaster threatened to whip them, I begged to take it myself. I had to appreciate being beaten, knowing it spared my children from that kind of pain. I could endure anything so long as they endured nothing more than a cold winter and too little food. The only way you survive that is to convince yourself that you are doing the right thing, and then, even pain will make you smile.”
Turess studied Estin a long time before looki
ng back to the mists in the distance, where they were uprooting several large buildings. “May I ask rude question?”
“Only if I can too.”
Grinning, Turess asked, “Would you have changed your life to make it easier, if you knew that you would never meet Feanne? All of the pain and sorrow could have been avoided, but you would never have seen her face. Is a question I struggle with much in regard to my wife.”
“I don’t know your wife,” Estin said, hesitating as the mists vaporized the government building at the southern entrance to the city, “but if you’re asking me that, you went through things easily as bad as I have—”
“Worse in some ways, better in others,” Turess said.
“—but I would never question it. Even if I lived two thousand years, I would never wish for a second that Feanne wasn’t part of my life. I’ll take any pain, any torture, any misery this world can create to be with her. Even if she had died—and stayed dead—and you asked that same question, I would only replace her name with those of my children. There is nothing I wouldn’t suffer for my family. Do you really think I’d still be here if it wasn’t to save one or more of them?”
Shaking his head, Turess replied, “No, I would not expect that. This is why I ask. You are better man than I am. I died not knowing how my wife could have betrayed me. She was the reason I died all those years ago. I loved her as you love Feanne, but I cannot forget the betrayal. I want to know how she died out of revenge, even as I hope that I was wrong. It makes me question my choices.”
Despite knowing Turess’s reluctance, Estin put his hand over his. Turess flinched, but made no effort to pull away. “There had to be a reason. Remember who she was before then, and maybe if we’re very lucky, we will learn what happened to her when we get to Turessi.”