Night bobbed his head sharply and turned toward the nearest group that were working desperately to recover bolts of fabric before it could become nothing more than char.
There were perhaps fifty or sixty people in my immediate vicinity and that was a concern I didn’t need. I’ve never fought with another magician in unconfined conditions before, but I knew how destructive it could be, and I didn’t want other people being caught up in it. This battle would be far worse than anything I’ve experienced before for one simple reason: He was a Fire Mage.
His eyes left the crumbled cobblestone at his feet and he looked up at me with oddly unconcerned eyes. The smile was gone from his face now, but the dead lack of emotion was somehow more disconcerting. “Did you throw that?”
I nodded in short confirmation.
“What are you?” he asked with childlike curiosity.
“I am Rhebengarthen, Earth Mage.” As I spoke, I lifted my shields up around me, as strong as I could make them. My power was building, poised for attack. I didn’t trust this strange attitude of his one bit.
“Earth Mage…” he repeated, thoughtful, head canted to the side as he considered me from head to toe. “What am I?”
“A Fire Mage,” I answered neutrally.
“Fire Mage? Is that why I like to destroy things?”
“No,” I refuted harshly. “Fire Mages have always been the ones with the most control, the most discipline. Your magic cannot be blamed for your delight in destruction.”
A cruel smile teased at the corners of his mouth. “I wonder what it would be like to destroy you?”
I had no time to garner a response to that. He lifted both hands, palms facing me, and screamed, “Fire Inferno!”
The flames he shot at me were hot enough to melt steel, large enough to incinerate a full grown stallion instantly. I didn’t flinch, simply held his eyes as his fire washed over my shields without noticeable effect. As the attack faded, he stared at me in disbelief.
Did he really think himself invincible? My hands clenched at my side, nails digging into my palms, as I raised up my own attack. I gathered cobblestone, any loose bricks or stones from destroyed buildings, and threw everything at him.
He threw up another wave of hot flame, the force of it knocking back my attack. “You didn’t say a spell!” he yelled at me in accusation, as if by not saying anything I was somehow cheating.
I wasn’t about to explain to him that as a Mage, I didn’t use spells. His habit of saying things as he attacked would help me defend against him. Instead, I gathered up more stone and attacked again, this time as a feint. While he was deflecting my airborne attack, I tried to suck him into the cobblestones beneath his feet as I’d done with a group of city guardsmen so many months ago.
Swearing viciously, he aimed a concentrated burst of flame toward his feet, melting the stone enough to where he could pull free. He didn’t emerge unscathed from this, as his clothes were clearly scorched, but he wasn’t trapped and the victorious smirk he gave me gloried in that fact.
I ground my teeth together in frustration. Alright, these types of attacks won’t work. What else can I do? I threw more stone at him to simply buy another moment to think.
From the side, a torrential wave of water came from thin air and hit the Fire Mage square in the chest. He went down and rolled, back on his feet as quick as a cat.
I risked a quick glance to the side, even though I knew that the water could have come from only one possible person. Chatta met my eyes and gave me a reassuring nod. “They’re all clear!”
At least I didn’t have to worry about the people, then, although I didn’t like the idea that she and Night were joining the battle. Night, get clear, I thought to him firmly. You can’t protect yourself from flame.
“I’m well back,” he reassured me. “Focus on him.”
Flame burst up around the Mage, whirling around him like a dust devil, and the expression in his eyes was that of a madman. “Two of you,” he rasped out, teeth bared. “I won’t deal with two of you!”
I instinctively knew what he was going to do in the next second, and despite the intense heat pressing in around me, my blood ran cold. “Chatta, shield!”
Even as she raised them, he cast his attack, the flame so hot that it was nearly white. It hit her shields full force but unlike me, her shields couldn’t withstand that kind of attack. The shields shattered on impact, the force of it throwing Chatta back.
My own defense of a stone wall was a split second too late, only protecting her from the main onslaught. It also blocked her from my sight, so that the image of her falling was emblazoned in the front of my mind.
With a snarl of rage, the Fire Mage produced more fire, the flames leaping up high around him. I prayed Chatta was alright and dove back into the fray. To do otherwise would kill both me and her. I had to stop him. At any cost, I had to stop him.
“Chatta?!” There was raw panic in Night’s voice.
A hammer of fire struck my shields, forcing me back a step. I barely felt it. My mind was focused on Night’s cry. I’ve never heard him sound like that, not once. His panic froze my heart for I knew what it meant.
Rage, hot and quick, dug in with barbed tendrils. Under my feet, the ground trembled in reaction, every loose brick and piece of stone rose in the air to gather around me. I was past thinking, past strategy. I wanted him dead.
With absolutely no finesse, I reached into the ground and tore it asunder under the Mage’s feet. There was a tortured groan from the cobblestone as I wrenched it apart. The ground shook under my feet in violent tremors as the surface of the world shifted. A fissure spread rapidly, starting from under the Mage’s feet, extending a mile in both directions. Buildings started to slowly topple, collapsing completely as the bedrock supporting them was suddenly yanked away. The Mage screamed as he abruptly dropped into the ground, the sound of his voice cutting off seconds later.
I spared him not another moment’s thought as I quickly scrambled around all of the potholes and strewn wreckage to Chatta. She was laying unconscious, limbs sprawled. Night was already hovering over her, anxiously nudging her face with his nose. She never twitched.
I skidded to a halt next to her side, anxiously laying my hand against her chest. When I felt it rise and fall with shallow breaths, I closed my eyes and uttered a quick prayer of thanks. She wasn’t dead. “Night, call for help.”
“I already did. Xiaolang is coming.”
He’d better be bringing a doctor with him.
I didn’t dare move her, as I had no idea what kind of injury she might have sustained. She was a good three or four feet away from where she had been standing, which said that she had been knocked quite some distance. I did anxiously feel around her, checking for any open wounds, but didn’t find any blood. Her hair was singed around her face, and there were light burns along her forearms, but I saw no signs of any major injuries.
“Garth!”
I snapped my head up and around. Xiaolang was just inside the entrance to the market, Hayate slowing to a lope. The dragoo could barely stop before his master had thrown himself off and to the ground. “Chatta?” the captain inquired anxiously.
“I think she’s just unconscious, but I can’t tell,” I replied in frustration. Why couldn’t I have had at least one Jaunten ancestor that was a doctor?
Xiaolang nudged Night away so he could kneel next to her, doing the same anxious check that I had just done. He lifted her head very carefully, fingers combing through her head and around her skull. “I feel a significant bump, but nothing more than that. Her brain is emoting properly. She’ll be fine.”
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Thank the guardians…
Xiaolang looked up and scanned the area around me, a frown gathering on his face. “Garth, where’s the magician? I thought you were battling him here.”
I bared my teeth in a feral smile. “He’s underground.”
Those penetrating blue eyes locked with mi
ne and I knew that I didn’t have to say another word. He could feel quite clearly the rage still simmering within me. “Let him up,” he ordered softly.
I didn’t want to. I wanted that man safely dead, well away from the people he had tried to take from me.
“Garth,” Xiaolang reproved.
Shifting, I lifted Chatta as I rose to my feet. I kept one eye on her as I turned to watch Xiaolang. There was no sound from the Mage but I didn’t need it to know exactly where he was. It would be so easy to just let the earth merge back together, keeping him forever trapped underground. So terribly easily. If I were not perfectly in control of my magic, I could do exactly that without even meaning to.
The ground was still trembling, inching closer as if echoing my thoughts. Xiaolang grabbed my shoulder with a firm grip and with his touch, my rage was divorced from me. I blinked at him in shock, reeling at the sudden loss of that overwhelming emotion.
“Garth,” his voice was deeper, firmer than his usual tone, “let him up.”
I felt numb, detached from all emotion except a projection of serenity from Xiaolang. Without that rage dictating my magic, it was easy to obey his command. With a deep breath, I turned to face the fissure and focused, breaking off the piece of earth the Mage was lying on and raising it to the surface.
He had definitely been battered by his fall. I noted in an analytical fashion that number of scrapes and gashes covering his skin. His right arm hung limply at his side, bone poking through the skin, and his knee was at such an angle that it must be broken as well.
When solid earth was beneath him once again, Xiaolang released me, and with it his control. My emotions slammed back into me and it took a few moments before I came to grips with them again.
Without looking away from him I requested, “Xiaolang, get the sealing amulets from Chatta’s saddlebags. At least four.”
“I’ll fetch them,” Night volunteered. He scampered away in the next moment, treading carefully to avoid tripping.
Night trotted back with the saddlebags clenched between his teeth. “Here.”
“Where are the sealing amulets?” Xiaolang asked.
I shifted around a bit and pulled up a handful of amulets, all loosely tied together by their cords. “The blue disks are sealing ones.”
Xiaolang took them from me, deftly undoing the knot and taking four of them. “Can I put these on him?”
“Of course,” I answered, stealing a peek at the still captive Mage over my shoulder. “They’ll become active as soon as they are in contact with him.”
“Good.” Xiaolang didn’t say anything more, but the look he gave me said that he wasn’t going to let me near that Mage again anytime soon.
That was probably wise.
Xiaolang approached the huddled man and slid the amulets over his head. A petty part of me was viciously satisfied to see the Mage sobbing hysterically, gulping in deep breaths. When he noticed me, he stared in frank terror.
Xiaolang kept a tight grip on the Mage as he turned to me and said, “The Dom of Jarrell found me earlier. We’re all to use an inn over on the main street. Why don’t you leave Chatta and this idiot with me. We’ll take care of her. You need to stay here.”
“I should go with her,” I protested.
Xiaolang looked me square in the eye, repeating in a firm tone, “Stay here.”
I looked down at the woman in my arms. I knew that he would take care of her. That wasn’t something I needed to worry about. It was just my protective instincts were insisting I shouldn’t let go of her. A part of me recognized that Xiaolang was right, I shouldn’t be near the Mage while my control was still so tenuous. After a brief internal struggle, I forced myself to nod.
“Fine.”
~*~
It takes a lot for me to lose my temper. Maybe that's why it takes a long time for me to cool down again. Usually when I am truly angry about something, I'll either take a long walk, or go wrestle with one of my brothers.
This time, I put all of my energy into fixing the city around me.
Destruction was everywhere. I started with the courtyard that I had battled the Fire Mage in, since most of the damage done there was my fault. The fissure especially took a lot to fix, as I had to put the buildings back together that had slid into the crack. I winced the entire time I was repairing it. The whole thing was messy and a very sloppy display of power. With every mend I made, the more embarrassed I was that I had lost control.
I’d been far too enraged to care about a clean capture.
Aside from the massive hole in the ground, the main structures of the buildings, and the holes in the cobblestone, there wasn’t much else I could fix. I could do little about the wooden buildings, as I just didn’t have the spare energy to tackle the problem. Wood is not one of my best elements and it always takes more focus and energy on my part to build anything out of it. Reconstructing a single building would have done me in, so I chose to ignore the wood and set up the framework for the stone or brick structures.
With Chatta still unconscious it was all up to me to do the repairs, but that might have been a good thing. By the time that I was done, it was well past dawn, and I was so exhausted that I didn't have the energy to be angry anymore.
When the last repair had been made, I dropped heavily onto the ground, leaning my weight against a building. Sweat was pouring down my face, stinging my eyes, so I swiped at my skin with a dirty shirtsleeve. The coolness of the brick against my back felt marvelous, and I let my eyes fall closed as I enjoyed the sensation.
"I think that's everything," Night observed.
"I hope so," I groaned weakly. "I'm all out of energy."
"Yes, so I see." He sounded more amused than tired, the brat. "If you can climb onto my back, I'll take you to the inn."
Just the thought of standing was too much for me. "Give me a moment," I pleaded.
"Magus?"
I didn’t recognize the voice. During the course of the night, I had met quite a few people as I went around fixing the city. Some of them were noticeably nervous in my presence, but most of them were just grateful that I was helping. I opened my eyes and let my head flop to the right so I could look at who was calling me.
If I had possessed the energy, I would have scrambled to my feet at that moment.
The Dom of Jarrell was standing there. His attire was enough to tell me who he was, the formal dark suit having his family crest embroidered on the right breast. He looked to be in his early forties, although that could have been because of the soot emphasizing every tired line around his mouth and eyes. He was filthy as I was, from his sandy blond hair down to his scuffed boots. In his hands were two cups, one of which he was holding out to me.
"Thank you," I said in heartfelt gratitude, taking the cup and draining it one long gulp. Then I let out a happy sigh. Never has plain water tasted so good.
The Dom came to sit next to me, letting out a tired groan as he put his back to the building. "You've done excellent work," he commented with a small smile. "More than I would have asked of you. Thank you."
I was too tired to think of some sort of eloquent response. I settled for a simple, "You're welcome."
"Captain Xiaolang assures me that the Mage responsible for this is under tight security." There was a question lingering in his light blue eyes.
I wasn't sure where this statement was going, so I just nodded.
"What will happen to him when he is taken into Hain?"
Ah, that's what he wanted to know. "He will be stripped of his magic."
The Dom blinked, surprised. "That's possible?"
"It takes a full circle of people to do it, but yes, it is."
He thought about that for a long moment, turning it over in his head. Finally he nodded. "Good. We were never properly introduced. I am Overlyten, Dom of Jarrell."
"Rhebengarthen; thank you for the gift of your name." I gave him a half-bow, which was as polite as I was going to get in this position.
Overlyten grin
ned, an expression that made you overlook the lines of fatigue around his eyes and mouth, and the layers of dirt and sweat. Looking at that brilliant smile, I felt his sincerity. "Welcome to Jarrell, Rhebengarthen. Well met. Well met, indeed."
Chapter Six: The Best Laid Plans
Night made good on his promise and dragged my sorry carcass to the inn. My body was aching all over, so exhausted that every muscle felt strained. Still, crawling straight to a bed barely crossed my mind. I wanted to see Chatta first.
Xiaolang must have been on the lookout for me, for I’d barely dismounted in the stable yard when he appeared from the inn’s back door. He looked me over from head to toe, a slight smile tugging at his mouth. “I’d say you were busy last night.”
I braced myself against Night with my forearm, afraid that if I didn’t, I’d just pitch to the ground face first. “I went around the city and fixed all the damage I could. Chatta?”
“She was seen by a doctor, and he agreed she’d be fine,” Xiaolang assured me, stepping from the doorway. “She took several potions that hastened her healing process. Right now, she’s resting and waiting for you.”
So. I let out a deep breath. “Am I allowed inside now?”
“Yes,” he answered, smile going crooked, “although I think I’d better help you, considering how unsteady you are. I think you overdid it, Garth.”
I didn’t have a good response to that.
“Night, Shield is in the stable at the moment,” Xiaolang directed with a nod toward the cramped building. “He’ll help you get all of the tack off.”
“Sounds heavenly,” Night responded with a sigh. With a last look at me, he walked off.
Xiaolang grabbed me by both elbows and started frog marching me toward the inn. I was tired enough to appreciate the help instead of feeling uneasy about it.
I felt like I needed to say something to him. Working all of last night had put things into perspective for me. I’d been given enough time to think about what if’s. The answers had unnerved me thoroughly. Last night I had resented Xiaolang’s interference. This morning I felt very differently about it. “Xiaolang? Thanks.”
Magus (Advent Mage Cycle) Page 9