“Well, I’ll be freshly baked.” As Hental watched, Tadeus set down the candle and reached behind the nesting shelf, pulling out a live chicken. “This chicken is now called lucky. She’s probably scared out of her little mind. Take her carefully. It would be nice to salvage at least one of our flock.”
He gently handed the chicken to Hental, making sure Hental had the wings secured before letting go. “Go on in and I’ll be right behind you.” Hental left the coop as Tadeus checked the nests. Most of the eggs had been broken in the attack, but he did find six that were still in one piece. He loaded them in the one nest that wasn’t a mess and picked up the nest, following Hental into the hut.
“Well,” he said as he entered the hut, “I don’t think we’ll be having any eggs anytime soon. I think we’ll see if Lucky can get these to hatch and start us up another set. I’ll ask around and see who’s got a spare rooster.”
“Still have the touch, I hear.” Agardia made the motion of pulling back the string of a bow for the benefit of the boys. “Your father is quite the archer.”
Tadeus shook his head, “Don’t be putting ideas in their heads. I’m good, but there are plenty better.”
“Name one,” Agardia challenged.
“That’s easy. Lennoneck. He could knock a bit of dust out of the air.”
“He doesn’t count. He lives in another village. Name one person who is better with the bow than you in this village - and don’t lie.” Agardia winked at the boys.
After a long pause, Tadeus smiled and raised his hands in surrender. “All right, I’m the best in the village, but I don’t have to go around shouting it from the rooftops.”
“No one is asking you too. I just didn’t want the boys to get the wrong impression of me. I’m not just going to marry the first good-looking man I see. He needs to have some skills! Now, who’s going to go out and get me those chickens and some water? No reason for those chickens to go to waste.”
Lared stayed on the bed and looking away from his mother and the request. Hental, who had been standing by and admiring his father’s simple bow, said, “I’ll do it.” Looking from his mother to the bow and then to his father, he added, “Can I take the bow with me… for protection?”
“It’s going to be more trouble than its worth, but I suppose so. I know how many arrows are in the quiver, Hental, so make sure you come back with the same number.” Hental’s face dropped until his father added, “almost the same number, and don’t forget the rules. I don’t want an arrow coming through the wall and knocking my head off.” He fell onto the bed as if he was hit in the head. Both boys laughed.
Once outside, Hental went straight to the wood pile and searched for a split log that was about the same size as the fox. The clouds had left, leaving the moonlight free to give him just enough light to recreate the shot. He stood the log up where the fox had been killed and then walked back to where he figured his father had been.
Inside, Agardia asked, “What do you think our little archer is doing?”
“Recreating the shot…that’s what I would be doing if I was his age.”
“Fathers and sons. The four of you will wear me out.” Agardia shook her head. “Does he stand a chance of doing it?”
Lared looked at his father, just in case he was about to hear something he could use against his older brother later.
“Hental is good for his age.” Lared frowned - nothing to hold against him here. “But I don’t think he will make it. It was a pretty good shot and I wasn’t thinking in the moment, just doing. Those ones are usually the best and the hardest to reproduce.”
Outside, Hental pulled an arrow from his quiver, slapped it against the bow, pulled it back and let it fly. It was fastest he had put all those motions together, but he didn’t aim. The arrow went sailing over the piece of wood by a good four feet above it and five feet to the right, almost hitting the back of the chicken coop. I’ll find it in the morning, he told himself. He slowed down with his second arrow, pausing to aim like his father taught him. The wood looked black and silver in the moonlight. His second arrow flew two feet over the piece of wood and a little to the left. Okay, he told himself, that one counts as lost.
Hental put two arrows into the ground 3 feet in front of the “fox” and two more flew over it. Looking into the quiver, he knew he was pushing his luck. Almost half of the arrows where now gone. Last one, he told himself, as he pulled out another arrow. This time, though, he took five steps forward. Five giant steps, leaping from foot to foot until he was only a ten feet from the piece of wood. I’ve got you now, you crafty fox.
Hental pulled back the arrow slowly, aiming carefully at his target. When he was sure he would hit it, he let go. The arrow buried itself in front of the ground a foot in front of the target. “Ahhhhgh!” Hental stomped up to the arrow, pulled it out of the ground, took two steps back, and aimed at the piece of wood, now only a few feet away. The arrow sailed straight and clipped the top of the log, chipping off a piece of bark. Hental stared at it a moment before saying, “Got you!”
He picked up the two arrows in front of the target and found the arrow he just shot only a few feet past the wood. He loaded all three back into the quiver and walked back home. He puffed out his chest as he told himself, I could have got it if I needed to. I just would have got a little closer than Tatush, that’s all.
When he entered without the water, his father pointed at the door. Hental smiled sheepishly, set the bow against the wall, and went back out.
Chapter 24
Thanala, Illnox taught Xeron, was the source of everything, from the wind one could feel but not touch, to the boulders in the ground. Thanala was the source for all magic in the world, and there was more magic in the world than anyone could ever catalog or hope to control. Magic, Illnox explained, is fire, but if fire is thought of as a candle, magic is the sun. It can be harnessed, like a farmer planting his seeds in the right season or a builder placing windows to get the most sun.
Capturing magic, though, was like capturing a cougar - there is nothing to do but watch it, because if you take your eyes off it for a second, assuming you found it in the first place, it can and will kill you. Here, thought Xeron, Perante is trying to capture a dragon. He really is crazy. He returned his attention to the old lessons.
“Every magician,” Illnox liked to say, “starts with fire and lightning. Who isn’t impressed by someone controlling it? Lightning is speed and then we move to fire. Fire is destructive power. Watch a mage’s chest inflate with pride with that first puff of a fireball, as if the mage were harnessing the power of a dragon.
“I’ve never seen a dragon show off. Have you?” He didn’t wait for a reply. “Of course not, you might see one angry, or in a foul mood, or doing something no one understands in one of their damn jokes, but you don’t see them puff for puffing’s sake. That is a sign of deep power. Dragons know what they are, my boy, and when you know who you are, you’ll be ready to tap deep power yourself.”
“Deep power comes from the Thanala, and Thanala is everyone, including you. But we cover it up, claim if for ourselves. In doing that, we block its power with our own vanity.” Xeron felt a weight drop into him. It didn’t really drop in, he realized, but had been there all along. Instead, he realized, he had opened a path inside him to channel Thanala.
Perante noticed the change and sat up in his chair. This is new, he thought to himself. Xeron is even better than I thought. Time to hedge my bet before he acts.
“Xeron, as I have said before, I do have a reward for surviving all this. If you do survive.”
Xeron didn’t reply but kept his eyes on Perante.
“There are books, books a magical nature that only a few mages have seen it this world. I will give you access to one, if you make it.”
Xeron heard the words, but he wasn’t listening. He felt power, great power. Deep power moves mountains, he thought. I wonder about castles? There was a spell, an early spell, that Xeron had used to move small object
s. He pushed away or pulled towards him everything from a bowl to a person. A person had seemed the limit. That was before today.
Xeron breathed deeply and “pushed” the wall of the keep. For a moment, nothing happened. Slowly, though, the wall started to creak. Cracks formed at the corners and ran down the wall, out of sight as they headed down towards ground level. Perante’s head spun behind him at the sound of the masonry cracking. “Xeron,” he asked in wonder, “is that you?”
He didn’t answer, only pushing harder. He felt the magic channel through him, as if a direct line of power were coming from the center of the earth, running through him, pushing the wall. Light started to shine between the cracks, lighting up parts of the room and reflecting off the dust floating in the air.
With a rumble, the wall exploded outward. The room was instantly flooded with sunlight. Though he couldn’t see it because he had to squint against the light, Xeron knew the stones in the wall were raining down on the courtyard. Timber attached to the wall was falling as well, leaving a splintered edge to all the floors on that side of the inner keep.
When the wall collapsed, Xeron had no intention or desire to relinquish the power. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw the next castle wall through the dust and haze. That too, he thought, and reached out with his new found power. A smile spread across Xeron’s face as that wall started to crack. He tried to step forward to get a better view but was reminded of the sphere, which still held him in place.
His smile turned to a frown. He wondered, How can I have all this power and still be stuck in this sphere? He stopped focusing on the wall, which was showing significant cracks throughout the mortar. He brought both hands to his side, fingers up and palms facing outward, and pushed. The sphere moved, carrying him forward a few feet. The smile returned to his face.
“Well done, Xeron.” Perante’s voice snapped him out of his focus. There was a magical quality to it, forcing him to pay attention. “Moving a sphere is no small task, nor taking down one of my walls. I’ll have to fix that. But I have a question for you.” He paused, “Where will you go, wrapped in sphere?”
Xeron hadn’t thought about that, but he felt too powerful to be shaken by Perante. “Maybe I will move around like a cannon ball and bring your entire castle down?”
Perante feigned shock, “Oh no, please don’t do that…Xeron, you have impressed me, shown more power than I thought you had, but do not think for a moment that you have enough power to face me.”
Xeron felt himself and the sphere begin to rotate. He was trapped, like a fly in amber. Slowly, he was spun around until he was facing the floor. His body was held stiff prone and three feet off the floor. Without warning, Xeron was deafened by the sound of thunder and the sphere crashed through the floor. He watched the metal buckle and heard the wood splinter even as it exploded downward. The sphere didn’t stop until it went through the two upper floors and into the sub-basement. Xeron and the sphere were hovering inches above the stone floor.
Xeron pushed on the sides of the sphere, but it was as if his force went straight through, damaging the walls but doing nothing to release him from the sphere’s hold. The sphere rotated again, this time facing him upward. He could see Perante looking down at him through four floors. Dust and small pieces of wood rained down on the sphere.
Perante shouted down to Xeron, “Are we?”
Xeron was at a loss. He could bring the whole castle down if he wanted, but he would still be trapped in the sphere. After a pause, he answered, “That depends. Are we done?”
“I think so.” Perante’s voice sounded as if he was standing right next to him. “Earlier, you mentioned killing me. Still interested in my immediate demise? Or, by chance, do you have other things, say a new found understanding of magic, that you would rather explore?”
Xeron didn’t know if Perante’s magic allowed him to hear, so he answered in a loud voice, “That depends. We both know I could bring this entire castle down.”
Perante interrupted him, “If you had time. I could have pushed you down so far all your ‘pushing’ wouldn’t rattle a tea cup.”
It was disconcerting to hear his voice so clearly. Xeron answered in a quieter tone, “I hadn’t thought of that. What do you expect from me…wait. He shook his head, as if shaking off Perante’s influence. “What I need to know is what I can expect from you. I’m done with this in the dark business and I sure as Thanala don’t plan on being your guinea pig ever again. That’s not negotiable.”
“Says the man trapped in a bubble.”
Both men stood in the silence at that. Xeron was stronger than he had realized, but he did not know as much as Perante and could not get out of this trap unless Perante let him. Xeron realized Perante was not going to say anything else. He didn’t have to. As long as Xeron was in the sphere, he didn’t have anything to bargain with. This far underground, he would only trap himself if he continued to bring the walls down.
He wasn’t ready to give Perante the satisfaction of him talking just yet, even as he felt his connection to the power he tapped slowly ebb away. As it did, he felt the toll channeling that much energy took on him. He was exhausted. He sat down crossed legged and closed his eyes to take a break. When he opened them, he was back up in the main room. He had fallen asleep.
“Tiring, isn’t it?” Perante asked. “Imagine my surprise when, after hearing nothing from you for a while, I bring you up and find you sleeping like a baby. Ah, when we first tap into real power. Exhilarating and exhausting. Would you like a glass of water?”
Xeron was incredibly thirsty, now that he thought of it. “Yes, I would.”
A servant brought in a cobalt blue glass of water. For a moment, Xeron thought this may be another trick, but he realized the glass was cobalt blue, not the water. Perante would go out of the way to show off his power in every way imaginable, even to having his glasses crafted by the best and with the finest materials.
If he wasn’t still waking up, he would have wondered how Perante was able to send the glass through the sphere. Instead, he gladly took the glass and drank half of it with his first gulps, after casting a spell to see if it was altered in any way. “Thank you. I will not kill you if you end this.”
“You mean, you will not try to kill me…oh, never mind. I have repairs to make and things to consider. You have done your job well and will be rewarded, after you get some sleep.” The sphere pulsed once and disappeared. Before Xeron could do anything, Preante cast one last spell, “Sleep.”
Chapter 25
Yuri didn’t sleep the first night out with the boys, but when they stopped three hours after leaving their village, they were asleep before Yuri got a fire started. Yuri was exhausted, but he was also too wired with worry to sleep. As if he didn’t have enough on his mind, now he had two boys in his charge.
Instead of sleep, Yuri spent the night shifting his attention from watching the fire to watching the boys. They seemed so small to him and he felt so old. He laughed, chiding himself, 18 and old, what would Lindale say if he heard me say that? Still, , he thought I have seen more than most. Looking at the boys again, he wondered if this protective feeling was what his father felt for him.
At the thought of his father, tears started rolling down his checks. Everything he had been holding back or shut off to get through the day let loose. He sobbed quietly, not wanting to wake the boys. He couldn’t put words to it. It was as if a dark sadness welled up inside him and was washing out of him. When he finally stopped, he found himself hunched over his knees. His hands were full of chunks of dried grass and dirt.
He wiped the back of his hand across his cheeks, smearing dirt across them in the process. Looking over at the boys, he saw Bernard staring at him. He smiled weakly and said, “Go back to sleep, Bernard. I’m okay.” As he said it, he knew it was true. There was a weight off of him. He still felt pressure all around, but it was lighter than any time in the last day. “You ever need to cry like that, “ he tried to give Bernard the same look h
is father gave him when he was being serious, “you just go right ahead. It’s good for the heart.”
Bernard nodded, but didn’t say a word.
***
When the sun came up, Yuri coaxed the embers into a morning fire. He was incredibly hungry and was sure the boys felt the same. He heated what was left of his water and pulled tea leaves. After the boys got up and relieved themselves - Yuri noticed that they didn’t go far and they stayed close together - the boys joined Yuri at the fire.
Originally, Yuri was going to look for game nearby, but he had helped bury a village, temporarily adopted two boys, and hadn’t slept in 24 hours. He didn’t have the energy. The boys didn’t seem to care, either, as they grabbed the last of the apples in his pack. They ate quietly.
By the time they finished eating, the pot of water was boiling. Yuri took it out of the fire and set it on the ground, adding a few of his tea leaves. “Well boys,” he said, “We’ll have some tea to warm us up and then we’ll hit the road. Sound good to you boys?” He didn’t say it, but he hoped the drink would help ward off hunger until he could hunt some game. He was kicking himself for not setting snares the night before.
The boys nodded their heads in agreement. “I’m going to rest my eyes for just a minute while the tea brews.” Yuri closed his eyes. Before he realized it was happening, he fell sound asleep.
He didn’t stir until 3 hours later, when he felt a cold, wet nudging of his hand. He moved his hand onto his chest, but the nudging followed his hand. When he opened his eyes, he saw a raccoon standing on its hind legs and resting its front paws on his chest. The raccoon took a step back as Yuri flinched at the sight of a raccoon climbing onto his chest.
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