by V. St. Clair
He skidded to a stop behind a lean-to for shelter and took aim at the crystal.
Break! He channeled his thoughts at it, too winded to speak anymore. His heart was hammering so hard it felt like it was going to explode through his chest at any moment.
The third Suppressor broke, and Hayden’s partially-healed wrists were in agony again as the force of the magic hit him. Even more alarmingly, he heard a sharp crack through both of his Focus-correctors. They stayed on his wrists, but he knew that they wouldn’t survive much more magical backlash, and then he wouldn’t be able to cast reliably at all.
He stumbled to a walk in search of the last crystal, unable to manage a faster pace until he had a chance to catch his breath. His entire body felt like it was being weighted down with lead, and he couldn’t recall ever feeling so tired and miserable in his life, not even last year during the worst parts of the Inter-School Championship. That had—for the most part—been a game, but this was very real. Everyone he cared about was fighting in this forest, and the only thing he could do to give them a shot at staying alive was to take down the last of these stupid Suppressors before he collapsed.
With the greatest effort it had ever cost him he continued onward, numbly casting his shielding spell over and over each time it was taken down and feeling his defensive charm vibrate as it pulled magic from his Source to give him additional protection.
Sorcerers continued to come at him, but other mages kept jumping into his way to battle them, and Hayden staggered forward without really seeing or comprehending the things in front of him, mentally and physically exhausted. He forced himself to a rapid walk as he spotted the last of the crystals, stopping at a distance as soon as he had it in his sight. It would be harder to focus his will on a narrow range from far away, but he was also hoping that it would shield him from some of the magical backlash he seemed to experience every time he broke one of the crystals.
Honing his will and taking aim at the Suppressor, he cast Break one last time.
16
The War Hero
The same wave of power hit his Foci, just like every other time, only now his Focus-correctors shattered from the impact and fell from his wrists, broken beyond repair. Hayden stared down at them dumbly as his wrists seared with pain. His primary mission complete, he finally had the courage to look at his newly-exposed wrists: the third-degree burns were discolored and bleeding, and hurt a thousand times worse once Hayden saw how bad they looked. He leaned forward and vomited onto the ground in front of him, splashing a badger that was running past with a sorcerer’s hand clamped in its mouth like a trophy.
He fumbled desperately around his belt for the last of his healing elixirs, wishing that he had thought to reclaim his bag of weapons from Oliver before the fighting began so he’d have more. He chugged down the elixir and attempted to lick the inside of the phial clean, desperate for any relief possible.
It helped less than the first one—likely because he was more severely injured—but at least it stopped the worst of the bleeding and healed a few blisters.
Hayden was preparing to sit down with his back against the side of the hillock and wait for the fighting to be over when a monkey no larger than Bonk swung down in front of him and began jumping up and down to get his attention.
“What is it now?” Hayden grumbled, annoyed and exhausted.
The monkey was still bouncing around and pointing frantically into the woods, hopping forward a few steps and then returning back to him. The message was clear: follow me.
“Is there no one else who can go with you?” Hayden moaned feebly. “I’m at my limit. I can’t even do magic properly without my correctors or I might accidentally kill myself.”
It was pointless arguing with the monkey, who continued to chatter noisily and beckon him forward. He thought of all of his friends who were locked in battle all around him, while he sat here uselessly, too tired to do any more.
Most of them have been drained for months, and they’re still going. The least I can do is follow the stupid monkey.
“Fine, I’m coming,” Hayden groaned, forcing his legs back into action and trudging after the fuzzy brown creature as it led him away from the campsite and into the woods.
The sounds of fighting immediately ceased once he crossed the tree-line, and he knew that the forest had changed on him again. He could be a hundred miles away from the fighting for all he knew. Just one more thing that makes this place awful.
His simian companion was careful to keep him in sight, swinging from branch to branch between the trees and chattering loudly at him whenever he slowed down too much. Hayden trudged through a small rill that looked suspiciously like urine, but he was too tired to really care what the substance was as long as it didn’t eat through his trousers.
He followed the monkey for maybe ten minutes before he smelled salt water, and he knew they were approaching the coast. As he wove his way through the last of the trees, Hayden was startled to find himself standing on a sandy beach, overlooking the massive ocean that separated the northern continent from the southern one. He had never been to this part of the Nine Lands before, and for some reason he was struck with the thought that his mother would have liked this beach, with its white sand and clear blue water.
She probably wouldn’t have liked all the weird animals, killer sorcerers, and hallucinations we had to cross through to get here though.
He was so focused on the beauty of the beach that it took him a minute to see what the monkey had clearly brought him here for. The Magistra was standing waist-deep in the water a few dozen yards out, palms turned down so that they skimmed the surface of the sea and eyes closed in concentration. Hayden had a fairly good idea of what she was doing, given that the three enormous wooden boats sailing towards them were moving with uncanny speed through the water.
She’s pulling them towards us faster so they can unload and kill us all.
Given the size of the boats, Hayden guessed that each one could hold easily a hundred people, double that if they were packed to capacity. If those boats docked and the sorcerers came ashore, there would be no stopping them from flooding into the Nine Lands and taking over.
Why did that stupid monkey bring me here? My Source is mostly depleted from all the magic I’ve been using, and even if I tried a spell it probably wouldn’t work properly with my Focus-correctors gone.
In fact, it felt like his Foci were swollen, if that was even possible. He had no idea how he was supposed to stop three-to-six-hundred fully-trained, well-rested sorcerers by himself, but the monkey clearly had high expectations of him.
The boats were close enough now that he could see the detailing on the woodwork.
I have to try something, or I’ll be known as the chump who sat there and let himself get murdered while his friends were still fighting in the Forest.
The only thing he could really think to do that might slow a boat down was to set fire to it. If he did enough damage the boat might sink, and the sorcerers would be forced to bail out and try to swim to shore, which would slow them down and scatter their forces for a little while. It would buy him some time to run back and warn the others, if nothing else.
He swapped the remainder of his violet prism for a clear diamond one, twisting it into his eyepiece and quickly locating the array for Heat. Squinting in the light of the sun and taking aim at the ship in the middle, he called on fire.
Nothing happened.
It wasn’t that the magic didn’t work, it was that he didn’t even feel it coursing through his channels at all. His Foci still felt swollen and congested, and the only thing he had gained was a headache.
Frowning, he tried again.
“Fire!” he said out loud, feeling a weak trickle of power leave his channels this time, though not nearly enough to bring down a ship.
The Magistra must have heard him, because she turned suddenly and looked straight at him, and he could see the hatred on her face even from where he was standing. It wasn’t
the same face he was used to seeing, either: she looked older, her hair less thick and shiny, her face more lined and freckled.
She must be using so much magic to pull those boats closer that it’s sucking the youth from her.
Once she saw that he was alone, the Magistra graced him with a smile like acid, stopping her work with the boats long enough to raise her arms towards him. Hayden had no doubt that she was about to annihilate him in the most painful way imaginable, and he panicked and looked past her to the central boat once more.
I have to do what I can to slow them down, even if it’s just one ship.
“FIRE!” he yelled, and in his panic a surge of power slugged through him.
The boat he was aiming at exploded without warning, flying apart with so much force that it deafened him instantly, and the Magistra turned back just in time to see the boats on either side of it explode in the aftermath.
The force of the magical detonation blinded him; all he could see was white light as he felt his feet leave the ground and his body flying through the air with incredible speed. He expected to hit something and break his neck, but instead it felt like the ground rose up to meet him, and it felt rubbery and loose, bending and bowing beneath him as though the world was about to split apart.
All of that happened in the span of a few seconds, and then he was unconscious.
The first thing Hayden became aware of was the odd sensation of being dragged backwards by the collar of his t-shirt. His ears were ringing horribly, and that was the only thing he could hear; even his own moans of pain were muted to him.
He forced his eyelids to open a sliver, and through the haze of exploding patches of light that still filled his vision, he could begin to make out the hulking form of a reindeer looming over him, teeth clamped around his collar. So this was the thing that was dragging him backwards across the forest floor, scraping his arms and legs with brambles and twigs as they went.
Hayden felt the ground buckle alarmingly beneath him, and the reindeer stopped dragging him until the ripple effect stopped and then resumed as though nothing had happened. He had no idea why the ground was moving like jelly sometimes, but didn’t think it could mean anything good for him.
The reindeer soon enlisted the help of an otter when they reached a murky green creek that looked like it contained a host of unpleasant bacteria Hayden wanted no part of. Ignoring his weak protests, the two creatures dragged him into the water, and it was all Hayden could do to take a gulp of air before his head went under the surface.
His cuts and scrapes all stung horribly from the murky water, and his blistered wrists hurt so badly he nearly passed out again, but for some reason there was a flash of heat followed by intense coldness on the back of both hands that he couldn’t place.
He tried to push himself towards the surface, but the otter and reindeer weren’t doing a very good job of pulling him out of the water, and Hayden’s lungs were screaming for air as he faded into blackness once more.
After that he couldn’t decide if he was dreaming or dead. He occasionally heard muffled voices over the ringing in his ears, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. Whenever he found the strength to open his eyes, he would see something different: one time he was being carried on a makeshift wooden gurney by strangers; the next, he was lying on a mattress in a place he didn’t recognize with Master Reede staring down at him; then Mistress Razelle was forcing a lot of bad-tasting liquids down his throat, making his insides burn; Tess was leaning over him, bruised and pale, eyes wide with worry.
“I like you,” Hayden blurted out dumbly, remembering that Oliver had said it was important to say these things before one died.
She gave him a strange look and then he was out again.
Hayden had no idea how much time had elapsed when he finally opened his eyes and was able to focus properly on what was in front of him. His mind felt clear for the first time since the magical explosions, and most of the ringing was gone from his ears. He tilted his head to look around the room he was in, but he still didn’t recognize it: it was small and in desperate need of a paint-job, the pale green chipped and peeling in several places. He was lying on a bare mattress on the straw-packed floor, and other than a broken water pump and a gas-lamp there was nothing else in the room with him.
He became aware of something warm near his side and looked down to see Bonk resting beside him. The little dragon uncoiled himself and stood up so that he was looking down at Hayden once he realized his master was awake; he looked strangely relieved to see him.
“Fat lot of good you did me during that fight,” Hayden greeted his familiar, though truth be told he was quite pleased to see him.
“He actually helped quite a bit, once he and Slasher hauled Cinder to safety,” came a familiar voice from near the door that startled Hayden. Turning his head quickly, he saw Master Asher standing in the doorway, along with Kilgore and Willow.
“Mind if we come in?” his mentor asked with a wan smile, looking much better than the last time Hayden had seen him—when he’d been caged—but still not good.
“Oh good, you all survived.” Hayden struggled into a sitting position, only now noticing the thick wrapping of bandages around each of his forearms and wrists. Bonk shifted positions and nudged a cup of water that was sitting beside the cot, and Hayden picked it up awkwardly and drained it in one gulp while the Masters entered the room and made themselves at home.
Asher was sitting pretzel-legged on the floor beside his bed, while Kilgore and Willow preferred to lean against opposite walls, framing the room like statues.
“How long have I been asleep?” Hayden asked as soon as he finished his water, putting his back against the wall and wishing he had a pillow or two.
“ ‘Asleep’ is a nice way of putting it,” Kilgore grunted in his usual tone, looking odd without his Mastery robes on, in borrowed clothing that was obviously made for a smaller person. “For the first few days we thought you were sure to die.”
Hayden raised his eyebrows in interest as Willow answered his question, “It’s been about a week since the battle ended.”
A week? Hayden marveled at how ill he must have been to be unconscious for such a long period of time. Didn’t I make a promise to get my butt kicked a lot less this year?
“So is the war over for good then? Did we win?”
Master Willow shrugged and said, “It’s hard to say. To my knowledge our scouts haven’t seen any more activity around the coast, but since the Forest has moved, things have been a little hard to sort out.”
Confused, Hayden asked, “What do you mean ‘the Forest moved?’ ”
“I suppose you wouldn’t remember that part since you were incapacitated,” the Master of Wands reconsidered. “There was some sort of violent magical explosion that ricocheted through the Forest of Illusions while we were still fighting. Since the Forest is unstable on the best of days, it was enough of a catalyst to cause the entire thing to shift locations. That’s why we’re currently in the middle of Minir, on the southern end of the continent.”
Hayden’s mouth dropped open. “You mean the entire Forest of Illusions moved with all of us inside of it?”
“Yes, and let me tell you that it’s an experience I don’t ever care to repeat,” Kilgore grunted. “The ground gave way and everything seemed to bend and stretch all around us. I thought my face was melting at one point before things leveled out again.”
Hayden dimly remembered the sensation of being dragged over a ground made of jelly, which kept buckling and swaying beneath him.
“How did that happen?” he asked in amazement.
Asher, who had been watching him silently until now, said, “We were hoping you could tell us, since anytime there’s a magical catastrophe you seem to be right in the middle of it.”
Hayden grimaced. “Well, I guess I did accidentally blow up those boats,” he allowed.
Master Willow frowned and said, “You might as well start at the beginning. We pump
ed Oliver for information but there were still some gaping holes in the story that not even he could explain.”
“Oliver made it out alive then?” Hayden asked with interest. “How about his mother?”
The Masters looked surprised that he would ask this, but Kilgore said, “Magdalene’s a tough lady; she’s healing up fine.”
Good, then Oliver can keep his word and help me get my estate back.
“How about everyone else?” he asked desperately, mouth suddenly going dry. “The other Masters, and Zane, and…” he couldn’t bring himself to say Tess’s name yet.
Asher ticked off his fingers. “The rest of us are mostly intact, with the exception of Master Ferule, who died during the fighting.” The others looked momentarily somber. “Zane broke an arm and a leg but both are mending nicely thanks to Razelle, and Tess was surprisingly unscathed, save for a few bumps and bruises.”
Hayden exhaled heavily in relief as he felt the blood return to his extremities. His friends were okay…his stupidity hadn’t gotten any of them killed…
“Now, do you mind telling us what in the world happened in there?” Kilgore demanded gruffly.
“Right, well…Oliver and I snuck up on the campsite with the help of Bonk and Slasher, but they both disappeared before we got inside. A group of sorcerers surprised us and we got into a fight, but of course our magic wasn’t working properly because of those stupid Suppressor crystals—though we didn’t know why at the time. We did…really badly, without magic; well, Oliver was actually alright—he managed to floor one of them with nothing but his hands before they tied him up.”
The Masters nodded patiently, waiting for him to go on.
“They had me cornered and were about to take me down when they noticed my hands—”
“Yes, Oliver did mention that you bore sorcerer siglas, though he didn’t seem to know how you’d come by them.”
Hayden raised his eyebrows at that, because he had sort of told Oliver where he’d gotten them. It seemed that Oliver didn’t want to be caught in the middle of the entire thing and was leaving it entirely to Hayden to tell.