Third Power

by Robert Childs

  D—Durnig. I am called Durnig.”

  “Fine, Durnig. There was a girl brought here last night. Where is she?”

  “Don’t shrink my head,” Durnig pleaded with one of the saddest hound dog faces Steve had ever seen.

  “Fine,” he said with a sigh, hardly believing he had to say the next words. “You tell me where the girl is and I won’t shrink your head.”

  “You swear?”

  “Keep stalling and your head won’t be the only thing I shrink,” Steve said menacingly.

  Durnig’s eyes grew wider still and he rambled off his next words in rapid succession. “She’s being sold in the adjoining chamber—the other cell wing. She’s very pretty and the others mentioned a high selling price.” Steve’s expression soured considerably at that last statement and Durnig quickly replied with, “Uh, not—not that I would know.”

  Steve’s eyes narrowed. “No, of course not.”

  “Where is this room?” Eegrin asked.

  “Third door in the main chamber. One is the armory, one goes outside, and your friend is in the last. The prospective buyers only recently entered the room.”

  “Good. Now, there’s one more thing,” Steve said, peering hard into Durnig’s piggish eyes. “Besides you, how many others are there?”

  Durnig bit his lower lip, clearly torn about answering that question.

  Steve looked up, “What do you think, Eegrin? Shrink his head and work my way down from there?”

  “No, no! Please! There are six of us chosen by Borathis to enforce his laws. Three are in the market square waiting for us, the other two stand guard in the main chamber to escort you out.” Steve made a disappointed face and Durnig cried, “That is all of us, I swear!”

  Steve then patted the big man’s cheek with his free hand. “Thanks, chubs. You’ve been very helpful.” He then closed his eyes and waved his free hand over Durnig’s wide forehead, muttering low in a seemingly arcane tongue. When he finished he said, “There, I’ve placed a spell over you. If you so much as move or make the slightest sound from that gaping maw of yours, well…” He shook his head slowly. “But don’t worry; it wears off in a day or so. Until then, enjoy your rest.”

  The whites of Durnig’s eyes became plainly visible in the low light of the cell.

  “Ah-ah! Careful. Don’t even whisper,” Steve cautioned with a warning finger. Durnig shifted his gaze and stared at the ceiling with despair written clearly on his face.

  Eegrin snatched up the keys and locked the door to the cell behind them. He then worked the key in the lock of his wrist shackles as they walked and said, “You did not mention you were capable of such things.”

  Steve shrugged, “That’s because I’m not.”

  Eegrin handed over the keys with a smile and Steve went to work on his own shackles. “I never thought I would hear myself say this about a human, but I think I’m beginning to like you.”

  Together they moved quickly down the corridor to the rickety wooden door at the end. It creaked open ever so slightly at a nudge and revealed a large room beyond constructed of wood—unlike the cell wing—reminiscent of a crude kind of courthouse. Chairs lined the farthest half of the room, split by a single aisle down the center and ended at a waist-high banister running horizontally across the room.

  “Those two,” Steve whispered.

  Two men Steve recognized from the night before leaned against the banister with their staves resting in the crooks of their arms. The young man wondered offhandedly what had happened to the man whose leg he had broken. Of course, now that he thought about it, he didn’t really care.

  “I have an idea,” Eegrin whispered back. “It should get at least one of them.”

  He explained his plan.

  Steve nodded, nervous. “Let’s do it.”

  He closed the door and Eegrin readied himself, lowering his voice and adding a rasping grate very similar to the jailer’s own. Steve held the door shut as his feathered friend then pounded on the door shouting, “Hey!”

  “What’s wrong, Durnig?” came a mocking reply. Which guard had spoken the two young men could only guess. “Lock yourself in again?” This last prompted laughter from them both.

  Eegrin answered by pounding yet again.

  “All right, all right.”

  Steve heard booted footfalls coming closer and tensed. “Now!” Eegrin said. Together they burst into the room, catching the nearest guard unawares. With the crystal singing in his ears, Steve seized the man by the front of the clothing and hurled him like a rag doll over the banister to crash amid the neatly assembled chairs.

  Eegrin was already upon the second. Holding on to a chair he held by the backrest, he fended off blow after blow from his opponent’s staff that, unlike his fellows, was metal tipped and pointed like a javelin.

  “You will wish you stayed in your cage, birdman,” the guard hissed. He swung again and Eegrin was barely able to bring the chair up in time. The guard smiled contemptuously when the Jisetra attacked and used his weapon to stay clear. Eegrin then threw the chair at him but the guard fended it away easily.

  Steve turned and his heart leaped to his throat when he realized he could not get to his unarmed friend in time. His power flared in response to his alarm and, not knowing what else to do, he prepared to charge. Then he stopped, heeding the call of that familiar otherworldly voice. The colors of the room and the people within faded to gray as time slowed to a near standstill and words from some other place filled his mind. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Steve sent his power outward like an omni-directional wave and spoke the words:

  When sticks and stones would break your bones,

  Give them eyes with which to see.

  A dash of life to end this strife,

  And strike at mine true enemy.

  At the last word the unearthly presence released its hold on the time stream and color flowed back into the world.

  Eegrin brought up his arms up defensively as the guard attacked with a great bellow. The staff moved in a vicious downward swing, but arrested its movement only a few inches above the Jisetra’s head. The guard strained futilely against whatever force held his weapon in place but it would not be budged. Eegrin lowered his arms then and feinted as if to lunge, prompting the guard to jump back and leave his staff suspended in the air. Neither Jisetra nor human seemed to know what to do next in the wake of this strange phenomenon, as they both stared incredulous.

  The staff belonging to the first guard “stood” upright, coming away from the bannister it leaned against and then flew spinning like a helicopter’s rotor across the room to club the guard from behind. The man staggered forward under the blow, directly into a return swing from his own autonomous metal-tipped weapon that sent him spinning to the floor unconscious.

  Steve’s magic expanded across the room like a swelling hemisphere with him as its epicenter. The room shuddered and chairs floated into the air of their own volition, planks tore free of the walls, and balusters ripped themselves away from the rail. Steve raised his hands as he took a cautious step backward, unsure what would happen next, wondering where—if ever—it would stop.

  “Look out, Steve!”

  A chair rocketed toward him and he dived to the floor just in time. It raced over his head and struck the guard behind him with a dreadful thud. He looked up wide-eyed from the floor, realizing only then he had totally forgotten about the first guard. The chair hadn’t been after him as he first thought, and Eegrin’s warning had been about the threat behind.

  Eegrin exhaled explosively in obvious relief. “Are all humans as lucky as you?”

  Steve climbed to his feet and dusted himself off. He glanced at the two unconscious guards on the floor. “Maybe not all of us.”

  Alarmed voices and the sounds of a commotion issued from behind another door to the chamber, soon followed by four men bursting forth in a scramble. The first three dressed in expensive looking silk garments with fine shoes and hose; the last, a disreputable lookin
g sort with slicked salt and pepper hair, dressed in dyed homespun of gray breeches and blue tunic. All four stopped short in their flight in the face of sixty-odd chairs, staves, and other items floating in mid-air.

  “More sorcery, my lords!” the smarmy looking man proclaimed.

  “Wizardry, actually,” Steve corrected.

  Three chairs emerged from the doorway behind the men, and Eegrin could not help but laugh. “I think these are the gentleman we seek.”

  Steve calmly approached the closest of the finely dressed men, a short fellow in green silks and vest, with a bald pate “So where is she?” he asked simply.

  The plump little fellow’s features hardened into a grimace. “Who are you to address a lord?”

  “I’m the guy who’s about to bounce you off all four of these walls unless you tell me what I want to hear. Now one last time, where is she?” Steve stared down into his face and the little man’s courage seemed to drain away like the blood from his face.

  “She – she’s in the other room,” he said pointing.

  Steve turned his back on the man and, not entirely sure it would work, made a ‘come hither’ motion. Chairs and staves alike rose higher into the air and pressed in closer around him.

  Gesturing toward the four men behind him, he said, “Do not let them leave.” The three lords and the jail keeper pressed in close to one another as a swarm of wooden chairs herded them into a tight group. No less surprised than anyone else in the room, the young wizard disappeared down the passageway the four men had come.

  Eegrin crossed his arms over his chest and smiled at their well-dressed prisoners. “So, what shall we talk about?”

  Steve reached the door at the end of the corridor and pushed aside the door already ajar as he stepped through. The room beyond was smaller than the larger central chamber—perhaps 30’ x 30’—with a floor covered in well-worn but clean animal skins. Dust motes floated in the sunlight shining in by a single barred window in the far wall. Aside from a few strands of rope on the floor, however, there was no sign of his friend.

  “Steve!”

  He quickly turned and Sonya ran into his arms, hugging him fiercely. Only then did he realize she had hidden just inside the door, as he once did at the Circle K, prepared to ambush the first person who walked through.

  He pulled away from her and held her by the forearms. “Are you okay?”

  “Aside from a few rope burns, I’m fine. Lucky for me none of these guys were Boy Scouts.” She glanced at the rope on the floor and shrugged. “You wouldn’t believe it!” she said then. “One minute they were bidding on me like some kind of farm animal and then, all of a sudden, the chairs started moving around on their own and chased everybody out of the room.”

  Steve released her, relieved to find her unharmed. “Yeah, same thing happened out there during the fight.” He used his head to indicate the direction of the main chamber.

  “Fight? Wait, was that you? You did this?” she asked with shock in her voice.

  “Technically, yes,” he replied. “But, for now, it’s a long story and we really need to get you out of here.”

  “But those men—”

  “Are already taken care of. Eegrin’s keeping an eye on them.”

  “Eegrin?” she asked.

  He smiled and took her by the hand, “Come on.” They emerged out of the corridor and he said, “This is Eegrin.” His winged friend straightened at the introduction and then gave her a graceful bow as though greeting royalty.

  Sonya’s eyes grew wide. “He has wings!” she exclaimed.

  The tallest of the three lords sneered contemptuously at the other two as though finally proven correct about something he knew all along. “So she can speak after all.”

  Eegrin turned, “Of course she can speak, but who gave you permission?” The lord mumbled in childish defiance and then fell silent. Eegrin turned back to his friend. “I think now would be a good time to leave this place; before someone misses us.”

  Steve nodded, “Agreed.” He motioned to a staff floating to his left and it moved obediently to his side. “I hope this works,” he mumbled. Taking the staff in both hands, he eased it into a horizontal position, parallel to the floor, and pressed down experimentally. Feeling resistance, he nodded satisfied. “Okay, Sonya, hop on.”

  Her brow arched. “What?”

  “Please, we don’t have a lot of time.”

  Sonya approached as asked, though clearly perturbed. “You’ve had better ideas, Steve.” She eased herself tentatively into a sitting position, sidesaddle. The staff dropped a few inches and then drifted up again until Sonya’s feet left the floor. She wobbled a moment, struggling with her balance, and then was still.

  “How’s that feel?” Steve asked.

  “Like a broom stick—and don’t you say it!”

  He smiled and feigned helplessness with his hands in the air. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” He then beckoned to a second staff and mounted similarly. To the four men he said, “I wouldn’t plan on going anywhere. I think the furniture has grown to like you.” Steve felt a little strange talking to a piece of wood, but to Sonya’s staff he said, “Unless she falls, stay with me.”

  Sonya tightened her grip resolutely and in English said, “Not much chance of that.”

  Eegrin cocked his head in question, clearly perplexed at the strange language the two humans used with each other. Steve nodded once but waved off his unspoken question. “I’ll explain later.”

  The winged young man shrugged but said nothing more, then cleared the banister in a single leap with the aid of a single flap of his wings. He moved quickly to the front doors and then opened one. “After you,” he said.

  “Your friend is something of gentleman,” Sonya commented.

  The staves moved forward side-by-side, rising over the banister and then gliding silently down the center of the room. Steve placed an arm around Sonya’s waist and then pulled her close so they could squeeze through the doorway together. She smiled, keeping her eyes straight ahead. Outside, people dashed about in every direction in a panic.

  “What’s going on?” Steve asked.

  Eegrin looked about, clearly as confused as anyone, until finally catching sight of the source of the alarm. “Look!” he cried, pointing.

  Around the corner of the market square, a mounted warrior galloped into view wearing brown leather armor and a chain mail mask that covered all but his eyes. His left hand wielded a vicious looking whip that he lashed out with indiscriminately. With a deft flick of his wrist he scored the back of a farmer and laughed when the man cried out.

  “It would be best if we leave,” Eegrin urgently suggested.

  The warrior spied the trio and spurred his horse into a charge.

  “Now would be a very good time,” the Jisetra insisted.

  Steve heard his friend’s warning but dismounted, taking his staff up in his hand.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Sonya exclaimed.

  He took several running steps forward as the warrior barreled down on him and then hurled the metal-tipped weapon like a spear. The staff left his hand like a missile and unhorsed the charging warrior, backward somersaulting him out of the saddle with a strike full to the chest. Steve beckoned and the magic-infused projectile flew back to his hand as the first warrior hit the ground and another came into view.

  “Who are these guys?” he asked.

  “Borathis’s men,” Eegrin replied. “And if they are about then Borathis himself cannot be far away. We must leave here. Now!”

  “Steve, please!” Sonya urged. “Let’s go.”

  Steve hurled the staff again and the second warrior left his saddle to crash through a merchant’s stand. The weapon returned once more and the young man faced his friends with a triumphant smile and a host of possibilities turning in his mind. He could hear the crystal’s shattering song against his chest and he knew without looking the magic was alight within it.

  “Change of pla
ns,” he said to Eegrin. “Can you carry her?”

  The winged young man didn’t argue. He wrapped his arms about the young woman’s waist and unfurled his wings. Sonya shrieked as the ground fell away beneath her and together they soared upward into the air.

  “Steve!” she cried, but in moments they were but a dot in the sky as Eegrin fast climbed out of the range of crossbows.

  Eegrin leveled off and carried Sonya several miles outside of town with powerful strokes before diving like a falling stone. Sonya felt her stomach leap into her throat and she gripped his arms instinctively as the ground raced up to meet them. Eegrin leveled off and then eased into a landing with several stabilizing beats of his wings, setting Sonya down gently in an open field. He then said something—the language incomprehensible to her without Steve—pointing first to her, and then to the ground she stood upon.

  At that he launched himself into the air again but, instead of turning toward town as she expected, he turned toward the mountains to the west.

  “Where are you going?” she demanded, but he was already too far away to hear—even if she could speak the language. She turned back toward the direction of town, but that, too, was no use. Eegrin had carried her swiftly and far, and Steve would either succeed in his plan or die with it long before she could get there.

  Steve laid flat on the rooftop watching the approaching warrior, more confident than ever in his capabilities. His greatest control lie in his power to augment the physical aspects of himself for there was no thought, no massive summoning—and subsequent broadcast—of power. It was easy. It seemed to him he had no physical limitations when the crystal answered his call. His jump to this rooftop had been exhilarating, and yet incredibly natural, and he wondered if everyone with magic could do the same.

  The chain mail of the warrior’s mask trembled as his harsh voice barked from behind the steel mesh. “Move, peasant! To the square with you.” Unlike his fellows earlier, this man seemed more intent on herding every citizen toward the market square than lashing out for sport.