The Price of Magic

by Gavin Neale

  Despite the magic for his spells being sucked away by Einion’s token, Morgill’s face remained unchanged. However, his sword dropped to the floor and the withered arm that had been supporting it was revealed. The skin of his right arm was shrivelled around wasted muscles and his skin was black on his hand and forearm, as if the sword he had held had burnt him. Morgill snarled but there was nothing he could do because of the poisoning the decaying metal had inflicted upon him.

  Einion returned his axe to his belt and selected another token from his pouch. He tossed it at Actaea, who let out a sharp scream and curled up around her damaged knee as the magic was drained from around her as well.

  The malevolent king looked across at his fallen subjects and laughed. ‘Congratulations! If only you had some reinforcements.’

  Nora was sweating, having used more magic in the last few minutes than she had in a number of years. Her senses felt a hostile group coming towards them – and then she heard something else that made her smile. ‘We are not entirely without allies.’

  The king cocked his head. A frown crossed his face – then he disappeared without a word. Barely had he vanished when a huge griffin flew into the clearing, accompanied by a pixie. There were several crossbow bolts in the griffin’s flanks; trails of blood covered its fur and seeped into its feathers but it did not seem to be bothered. It let out a screech and turned to face the Ruined’s camp.

  Florian flew straight to Nora’s shoulder and whispered urgently, ‘I don’t know where Pedir and his friend have gone. Too many are coming for us to fight.’

  ‘Worry not, little one. We shall not wait here. We must go. Harmonia, return to the queen and tell her the Ruined are prepared to use their heavy blades.’

  ‘At once,’ said Harmonia. She gave one final glance at the fallen end of her sword lying on the grass before she flew into the Grand Forest.

  ‘I cannot dispose of decaying metal here. I don’t have the tools,’ said Einion, before pointing at the two fallen elves. ‘And what do we do with these two?’

  ‘There’s no time,’ hissed Florian, having already exhausted his supply of bravery for the day. He could feel the band of the Ruined approaching. ‘Leave them both. We have to get away.’

  ‘What about the blade?’ asked Einion, hurrying over to the two witches.

  Daphne spat suddenly and muttered a charm, reaching out and placing a special spell on the token that sat by Morgill’s feet. The token glowed a strange green colour and rose in the air for a second, before suddenly flying towards Morgill’s sword and melting into the blade.

  ‘I’m not sure that was a good idea,’ Nora said, taking Daphne’s hand as Morgill rose from the ground and snatched up his sword. She held out her other hand to Einion and the three of them stepped out of the Land of Fairy.

  Morgill bellowed his frustration to the sky, giving Florian and the griffin with him time to flee to safety. Morgill was still cursing when the approaching group of Ruined stormed into view. He stomped over to Actaea and kicked the dwarf’s cursed token away, freeing her from its torment and only costing himself a moment of discomfort. He lashed out with a furious spell, setting fire to the nearest tree.

  Actaea clambered to her feet, looked at the burning foliage and smiled, setting fire to a pair of trees with her own spell. Actaea and Morgill screamed at the sky and started to burn more trees as the Ruined who had come to reinforce them watched on.

  Nora took Daphne and Einion through an uninhabited world so they could not be followed before they stepped back into the garden by the witches’ workshop.

  ‘I’ll get Rhiannon. We have much to discuss,’ said Einion, looking up at the smokeless chimney and worrying about where Pedir and Abby were. He headed off to fetch Rhiannon.

  ‘What hex did you place on that blade?’ asked Nora, as she opened up her workshop.

  ‘You can’t work much magic against any metal, let alone decaying metal, so I used Einion’s token to place a doom on it. The sword will fail in the end – but I don’t like to think about what damage it will wreak before the curse manifests.’

  ‘I didn’t know you could manipulate dwarf runes like that, Daphne.’ Nora’s voice was full of reproach although her face showed a degree of pleasure in being surprised by her old friend.

  ‘Nor did I, dear,’ said Daphne with a laugh. ‘I only had the idea because of what we did with Abby’s talisman. Do you think she will be okay?’

  ‘I don’t know where they are but I trust Pedir.’ Nora opened the door and made her way inside, sitting heavily on a chair as Daphne put the kettle on and fussed round her.

  ‘Did you know the pixie or the griffin?’ asked Daphne.

  ‘No. One of the first things I’ll need you to do back in the Land of Fairy is to find Tabitha and establish what the animals intend to do.’

  ‘That makes sense.’

  ‘What does?’ asked Einion as he walked into the room with Rhiannon.

  ‘We’ll tell Rhiannon what happened and then I can explain,’ Nora said, wondering what their next steps should be.

  24

  An Escalating Problem

  The fires Actaea and Morgill had started burnt fiercely to begin with, sweeping through the trees and sending animals fleeing until one of Harmonia’s sentries wove some magic and the rain began to pour.

  ‘I hate fairies almost as much I hate dwarves,’ Morgill spat. He and Actaea had sent the rest of the warriors back to camp and were now walking through the remains of the trees they had burnt, watching the rain dampen down the smouldering remains. Plenty of trees had fallen because of their angry outburst but what had been intended as a major revenge had fallen well short of his expectations.

  ‘I think we can agree on that.’ Actaea was still limping; her knee was a mess. Pain was a fact of life for the Ruined but her injury would take days to heal properly, even with all of the magic that flowed through this strange land they had invaded.

  ‘I appreciate wanton destruction as much as the next elf but I would prefer that you consult me before attempting any more major assaults,’ said King Richtus, stepping out from behind a burnt tree. He had been observing his two courtiers ever since the members of Guardians’ council had retreated.

  ‘Your Malevolence,’ both of the Ruined replied, turning and bowing to their king.

  ‘It is time to start the expansion phase of my plan. But let’s see if we can rustle up some minions to clear the way properly rather than burning trees out of spite.’

  ‘Spite can be useful, sire,’ said Actaea, aware that they had acted without his approval but knowing that no elf would expect them to get permission to seek revenge.

  ‘It has its place but this is a waste of perfectly good fuel and the trees shall fall soon enough.’ The malevolent king gave Actaea a small smile. ‘Still, it doesn’t hurt to remind everyone what we are capable of, even if the weather is under their control.’

  The two courtiers remained quiet, wary of the king’s mood.

  ‘Come, we have much to do,’ he said, turning and walking towards his camp without looking back. He expected his two courtiers to keep up.

  Arriving at the camp, the malevolent king sent Morgill to find out what had happened to raise the alarm. He sent Actaea to prepare a space for him to cast a spell so he could bring the rest of his army across from their home world. The fairies would soon feel the wrath of the full might of his army, which was much larger than the small force he had brought with him so far.

  Richtus strode towards his pavilion and, as he approached the entrance to his personal tents, he noticed that one of the guards on duty had a bruise spreading along the line of his jaw. ‘They made it this far?’ the king asked.

  The guard swallowed. ‘Yes, your Malevolence. A vagabond elf and his companion made it past us and confronted the human child, but they left empty handed.’

  The malevolent king fro
wned but said nothing and walked on. He would wait until Morgill had collated a full report and then he would consider what punishment he would inflict on the various guards who had failed him. Now he wanted to sit and take some wine – but he had not become king by giving in to any personal desire other than the pursuit of power.

  He headed back to where he had left Thomas and found the boy being watched by two of his personal guards. One of them still had a layer of dried blood covering the side of his face.

  ‘So far I have found two of my personal guards injured and none of my enemies. I am glad that the boy is still here at least.’

  ‘Your Malevolence,’ said the injured guard, bowing. ‘A human child and a vagabond world walker came into the clearing. The human had some modest skill with a blade, although I admit to underestimating her. The vagabond was able to assess the boy but we drove them off before he could take him.’

  The malevolent king closed his eyes but too much time had passed and the path the world walker had taken was too faded to follow. Anyway, he was sure that the world walker would have gone through an intermediate world. His eyes snapped open. ‘You must have shown me great loyalty, Thomas. I thank you for it.’

  Thomas looked up at the beautiful king and his nervousness fell away. He had been worried whilst he waited with the two guards he did not know. At first he was angry that Abby had come to take him away but, having seen the guard try to hurt his neighbour, he felt scared and worried about his mum. Abby was right: he should have gone home.

  ‘I know, Thomas,’ said the malevolent king, his voice layered with magic to soothe the human child. ‘It must have been startling to meet my enemies so soon but the vagabond elves will stop at nothing to hurt me. I’m proud that you resisted and I am worried about the human they are forcing to help them.’

  ‘Can we help her? She is my neighbour Abby,’ said Thomas, all thoughts of his mother and home banished by the malevolent king’s magic.

  ‘But of course,’ said the king with a broad smile. ‘I would be delighted to help rescue your neighbour Abby. There is much to teach you as well but after such a day I think it is important you recover. I have some work to do but I look forward to giving you your next lesson tomorrow.’ The king turned to his guards. ‘Take him away to his quarters and get him a meal. Thomas has earned it.’

  The malevolent king watched the guards depart, then headed to his own quarters and waited. A short while later a polite cough from his steward interrupted his plotting.

  ‘Your Malevolence, Morgill Olkeyr awaits your attention.’

  ‘Send him in and make sure we are not disturbed,’ replied the king, dismissing his servant with a wave.

  The servant disappeared and a moment later a scowling Morgill walked in and bowed.

  ‘Proceed.’

  ‘It was a basic plan. The perimeter guards were distracted by the attack of a griffin and a pixie. A vagabond world walker and a human child infiltrated the camp, getting past the guards and reaching your human child.’

  ‘He has a name,’ said the king, amused at his courtier’s contempt.

  Morgill nodded and continued. ‘They were disturbed by your personal guard but chose to leave empty handed rather than take the boy.’

  ‘We shall have to discipline the guards. At least Thomas demonstrated loyalty. I want you to teach him how to use a sword and how to lead a unit. I have – well, I have other things to teach him.’

  ‘Me?’ Morgill looked like he was choking as he protested.

  ‘Would you prefer me to ask Actaea?’ The malevolent king didn’t wait for an answer, it was written across his courtier’s face. ‘I thought not. We must find out if he can wield the heavy weapons with minimal effects. We must find out if the metal ore we have found can be put to better use than our basic heavy blades.’

  ‘Your Malevolence.’

  ‘I know you doubt and plot Morgill – I wouldn’t trust an elf who didn’t – but I will crush you if you go too far. This will be better for all of us. Now let’s go and see if Actaea has everything ready. I will need her strength.’

  The malevolent king prepared the spell carefully, laying out his elements precisely and in silence. It was one thing to step between worlds but opening a gateway stable enough for an army to cross into the Land of Fairy and join him was tricky.

  He concentrated on the beacon that lay at the centre of his small kingdom back in his home world; its familiar call reached faintly to the Land of Fairy but the echo was enough. There was no shortage of power here. He motioned Actaea forward. She stepped up to the magic circle that lay before them, holding her hand out over the objects of power.

  The malevolent king drew a crystal blade and grasped Actaea’s hand by the wrist. He ran the shard of crystal across his subject’s palm and calmly shook the flowing blood so that it spattered across the objects below. Satisfied, he waved her away and concentrated on the spell he was about to perform.

  ‘Let the blood of our kind call the way.’ He completed the rest of the spell in silence, bending the flow of magic to his design and hurling it at the magic circle. There was a tearing sound as darkness grew from the spell. Staring into it, he could see a red haze slowly solidify into a cobbled path that led into the distance.

  Actaea stood next to Morgill and the king’s personal guards at the edge of the camp and waited whilst the king performed his spell. Her hand burned where the enchanted blade had cut her. She could feel the tug of magic on her soul and knew that she would be bound to her king’s spell for as long as this pathway was open.

  It was a strange link between her and the spell; it drew no power from her, but she was aware of being part of the bridge between two worlds and so she felt the first feet of the king’s army step onto the path. She gasped as each footfall tapped into her nerves and her muscles twitched as the pain was triggered. She stared at the malevolent king, who was watching her with a quiet smile. Still they walked, more and more footsteps as the army began its march in earnest. The pain increased but Actaea drew in a breath and let it flow through her. Pain was nothing to one of the Ruined and her king needed her. Just like every other elf in the camp and the human child as well, her place was to serve.

  Epilogue

  Abby lay sleeping on a low cot bed under a makeshift shelter. Pedir sat cross-legged and shirtless; his staff lay in front of him. His long dreadlocks were pushed over one shoulder so a pair of dark hands could knead his muscles into relaxing.

  ‘Just how much of her pain did you take upon yourself?’ Gwennil had a deep voice, full of warmth and laughter, and it soothed Pedir just to hear it. She was his mentor, an ancient elf who had trained him so long ago that he had lost some of the awe he had for her and they had become friends. Pedir could think of no one better to heal Abby, not even Daphne.

  ‘As much as I could. It was the least I could do after what happened to her.’

  ‘And the witches had no idea?’ Gwennil’s hands focused on a troublesome knot in Pedir’s neck.

  ‘How could they? There is no magic to trouble the girl in the human world. It was only when we entered the Land of Fairy that we encountered magic strong enough for her wounds to be revealed.’

  ‘Who would have thought a potential human witch was still possible after all this time? This will need to be considered.’

  ‘We have to heal her first. And train her, at least to control her nature. Those with magical talents and a warrior’s heart are always volatile and prone to fall onto dark paths. But there’s a war coming to the Land of Fairy and a little boy to save.’

  ‘The Ruined will find a frightened child easy to manipulate.’

  ‘Yes, and there is much in Thomas that they can use to bend him to their will. He could prove a powerful tool.’

  ‘The witches will certainly hesitate to unleash their full power with such a soul in peril. You ask a lot of me, my failed apprentice. To heal
and train my first human – and one with such potential.’

  Pedir sat quietly. He would have to leave soon and he had to capture Gwennil’s interest. He had many things to tell her but most would have to wait, ‘Abby is perhaps not the most powerful potential human witch to have been found in recent years.’

  ‘There’s another?’

  Pedir smiled at Gwennil’s surprise, knowing that he had piqued her interest. ‘We must wake her soon but first let me tell you the tale of how our child warrior had her magic torn from her so clumsily and how, with her warlock brother, two human children of great potential freed the Land of Fairy from its false king.’

  Acknowledgements

  It turns out that even having done it before; getting a book published is really quite hard and once again I couldn’t have done it without a number of people.

  Firstly I’d like to thank my editor Karen Holmes who helped me turn the more complex and flawed draft of book two into a working manuscript. I think Karen is getting used to the way my brain works, but I’m determined to elicit fewer questions in the next one.

  I’m indebted to another illustrator for bringing pages from my book to life and I think Matt Hutchings has done an amazing job.

  The lovely people at Troubador Publishing are the reason that this book is in your hands and so I owe a thanks to Hannah Dakin, Heidi Hurst, Andrea Johnson, Alexa Davies and all the others who worked on my behalf.

  Closer to home, my parents Pat and Chris continue to offer project management, proof reading, and any other support that they can. It is one of those debts you can never repay, but I am deeply grateful.