by BJ Hanlon
He felt it flowing, all five of the talents. He pictured each, the ethereal light, a ball of flame, another of ice, a miniature tornado, and a ball of lightning. They appeared in a circle above his hand, none touching the other, none diminishing in any way.
Berka gasped, his hand flew to his mouth as he watched. Then Rihkar slammed a hand on Edin’s forearm and the balls of talent disappeared. Rihkar nodded toward the bar and Edin turned to see a pair of Por Fen walking past the old man and up the stairs.
“I don’t like the way that looks,” Henny said. They all nodded agreement.
2
The Time to Go
There were no other inns in the town, nor did anyone willingly open their homes to magi and their friends. But there was an abandoned building. One with beds and slight fire damage from a nearby blaze nine months ago.
Edin said nothing about the blaze as they took up residence in the two-story building. Despite the second story, they were forced to stay on the bottom.
The building had a torched roof with holes and rot and mold. That was unfortunate because it also held the only two bedrooms.
The group of outcasts spread out on the floor of the living room and dining room. Henny and Dorset, who had previously been residing at the inn, moved to the house where they wouldn’t be murdered by people under the same roof.
After they’d gone inside and each found their own places for which to set up their bedrolls, Rihkar headed to the dockmaster in search of passage despite the port being empty and the look of the sea.
The ocean wasn’t a field of ice, but the dark blue was dotted with small and large bergs. There were animals out there too. Edin spotted the giant spout of a black and white whale shooting out water for what seemed like a hundred feet into the air.
He hoped Rihkar could find a boat to take to the isles, maybe something in a dry dock currently waiting out the winter ice. That was doubtful in a small town like this. Any ship that could make the journey could afford to dock somewhere south for the winter.
And then Edin thought of the sea the open ocean and he felt the yearning and desperation in wanting to flee these people and begin searching for Arianne.
But he couldn’t. Not if he wanted to keep them all together.
At the Convocation, Rihkar was given leave to search for passage to the isles, to attempt to get powerful recruits, allies in Sinndilo’s head, though not in his generals or many of the other people in the army.
Edin didn’t get the same leave and now he had to stay within shouting distance. After he settled in with his blanket, one he’d taken from the inn, he had nothing to do.
He picked up a bottle of whiskey, also from the inn, and sat down on the small table and popped the cork.
“What are you doing?” Berka said stomping over and ripping it from his hands. Dorset and Henny looked up at them.
“What does it look like? I’m having a drink. It’s not like we have anything to do.”
“Get that out of here and stop drinking. We’re at war. Whiskey will do nothing but turn you into a blotard.”
“Come on, it’s just a drink. Just—”
“He’s right, Edin,” Dorset said. “You’ve been drinking like a man from the desert since I’ve known you, any chance you get. Ale is fine—”
“Guys, it’s just a bit of whiskey.”
“You don’t need it,” said Berka. “You remember Ulson? We’d laugh at him; we’d laugh with him. It was great fun, right? Have you ever talked to him when he was sober?”
“No.”
“I did, in my father’s jail. He told me not to drink, told me he’d lost his wife and his kid ‘cause of the booze. He was a pitiful thing Edin and you’re beginning to act that way. You lost your woman. Are you going to drink yourself to death?”
“She’s not—”
Dorset interrupted. “Stop. We need you alive. You’re the only one that can save the world. And if you do believe the elves can help, we need to find them. And to do that, we need to convince the Duke. You cannot do that sloshed.”
“Do they really exist?” Berka said.
Edin nodded.
“Then we recruit them.”
“Unless Sinndilo lets us leave, I’m a glorified guard.”
“What do you mean lets you leave Edin?” Berka said. “Just walk out of here. If someone chases you just knock them down with a wind or something.”
“What will that do to our alliance then? What would he do to you guys?” Edin said. “Even so, I don’t want to search for the elves until I know where Arianne is.”
“We saw her fall,” Henny said solemnly. “She’s not coming back…”
“She’s not gone.” He paused. “I dreamed of her; I saw her. I think maybe it was from Suuli’s vision powder. If I could get some of that, maybe I could figure out where she is.”
“Edin,” Dorset said solemnly, “that was just what they were, visions. I dreamt about Mersett. I thought I saw him as well when Suuli gave us the Hocooaltius.”
Edin looked up at him, there was nothing in Dorset’s expression that said he was lying. He was as serious as if he were trying to teach him another spell, a spell that could save his life.
Edin felt suddenly sick again. Like he had after he saw it, after he saw her fall. Edin shook his head.
“No,” Edin said. “She was in another underground city. She was running from dematians and draugrs. They were fighting. There was a river that ran through the city and it was lit by a weird blue glow from the ceiling.”
“She’s not—” Berka said but Edin slammed his fist on the tabletop and nearly leapt from his chair.
“You guys say what you will, I’m leaving. Do not follow me.” He eyed them one at a time, Berka, Dorset, and then Henny. Then he snatched the bottle from Berka. “And I’m taking this.”
Edin pushed past Berka and as the large lad tried to wrench it back out of his hands, Edin summoned a culrian and stopped him. A few moments later, he was out the door and walking down the road.
After walking quickly and not looking back, he began to relax a bit. At least in his gait, he started moving slower, easier and he began to notice things.
Out here, in the evening sunlight, in the real world, he heard voices. Not many of them and then he saw there were women and children about. Life.
A boy, probably about two, wearing only a large tunic ran out an open doorway. He had short blond hair and wide gray eyes that looked happy. He was playing and hadn’t a care in the world. The kid stopped as he saw Edin taking a drink from the whiskey and dropped a small wooden stick that was in his hand.
Edin swallowed the harsh liquor. The stick clattered to the ground and bounced a few times and then it rolled within a foot of Edin’s boots. Edin bent down and picked it up for the kid. As he offered it back, the kid ran back through the door yelling for someone, probably his mother.
Edin dropped it again and continued. He held the bottle by the neck loosely between his thumb and forefinger as he strolled down the stone road.
To the right, he spotted a small road, one that looked to be the same that he and Arianne had fled on all those months ago. The shrubs to the sides of it looked overgrown and untended. As he looked more carefully, much of the town seemed that way. There was little in the way of noise and movement.
How long could they expect the city to survive when its men were gone?
Then toward the sea he caught sight of the lighthouse. It stood in the shade of large tree covered hill to the west. The flame up top was out and then he noticed that the sun was going down. At any moment, he was certain it’d be lit.
Edin wanted to watch that.
He found an empty cart stuck on chocks and not going anywhere. From the rusting metal bolts, it looked like it hadn’t been moved in a long time. Edin hopped on the back and it squeaked. He took a drink and watched the lighthouse. When would that man, the stranger that let the two vagrants stay for the night, appear? When would the beacon burn bright for all who approa
ch?
Edin waited. He drank from his bottle, barely noticing the movement of anything else in the city. He concentrated only on that light.
He pictured the man and his boy climbing the stairs with the oil while Edin and Arianne hid in the closet. Edin saw him stop at the door on his way out and speak. The man didn’t call the sheriff or constable. It was like the village homeless shelter.
A loud laugh came from the left that nudged his mind out of the little dream-like state he was in. Edin glanced up and saw a group of soldiers taking a cross street. None looked his way as they headed back up toward the inn.
They got close to him, possibly within striking distance and he was unaware. Then his drunk mind looked back at the lighthouse. It was still unlit, that did not sit well with him.
Edin hopped off of the cart and began to follow the road south. He zigzagged through the town as dusk came. Edin drank from the whiskey as he passed an open door that let out the smells of woodsmoke and food. What it was, he couldn’t tell.
Edin headed toward the outskirts of town. It took a while as he cut through the same forested path he followed with Arianne when she was just getting back on her feet. The woods around grew dark as a quarter moon offered its pale and cold light.
A light that felt somehow sad. Edin thought.
He exited into the small clearing before the lighthouse and saw the flame still unlit. The smell of the ocean came back to him, triggering his thoughts and memories.
Off to the side of the thin peninsula was the small dock he’d tied up to while Arianne was out of energy.
He watched it in his mind as if he were some god looking at the past. Edin saw himself carrying her up the few steps. He remembered the fear in his heart and the pain that came from the idea that he may have lost her. That she’d stay in that state forever.
But he hadn’t lost her, at least not then.
Edin moved slowly toward the dock. He drank from the bottle and stared out over the ocean. Somewhere out there was the Isle of Mists. A place he should’ve left her.
Edin plopped down on the edge of the dock and let his feet dangle above the water. He closed his eyes and tried to see her.
It was the face that was growing more difficult to picture. Her body, lean and strong, her luscious hair, and her curvy figure were easily brought back to his mind. Her face, her gray-green eyes weren’t.
Edin smacked his dry mouth open and gulped a deep cold breath of salty sea air.
He tried harder to see those eyes, those thin lips, that cute grin. He strained to picture the look she held when she stared at him or the smirk when she hit him with one of those playful jabs.
“You can call me whatever,” he whispered, “if only you’d come back.” He felt the tears welling, “just reach out, say something.” Edin swallowed. Somewhere she was still alive. She had to be.
The underground river was wide and slow and she had food; very little of it, but it there was fresh water and she had a raft and weapons and she was a magus.
But where did it go? Where was that dwarven city and how many others were there?
Edin leaned back on the cold and clammy wood and stared up at the sky. He spotted a twinkling star to the left, somewhere over Bestoria. Then he saw a comet heading toward it in a straight line.
It was as if someone threw the comet at the star to give direction or point something out.
But barely a moment later, the streak of light faded out and the star seemed to disappear amongst its brethren.
Edin closed his eyes and envisioned it coming back, a twinkling light that pointed to where she was.
When he looked again, he saw that nothing happened. Edin stayed warm with the thick mountain spirit cloak but after an hour on the uncomfortable wooden planks he stood.
He had to make his way back to their shack, if he could even find it. The booze bottle was still over halfway filled and he hadn’t drunk from it since he laid down. As he began to bring it up to his lips something in his peripheral vision caught his eye.
It was movement in the brush. He glanced toward it but saw nothing of note. Just the bare branches and a few evergreens in fading light.
Edin lowered the bottle and stared harder trying to see what was in there. It was difficult, his eyes were wobbly… or was it the world. His respite from the bottle didn’t sober him up much since he’d stopped.
Were soldiers around here? Por Fen? People that wanted him dead because he was born. He’d thought he’d gotten out of their grasp. He was quiet and didn’t let anyone see him go. And now he was at least a mile out of town down a thin dark path through creepy woods.
Did someone follow him? Edin blinked back the thought. He’d been here for more than an hour and no one had approached. No one attacked him while he was prone on the dock.
There was no other sound but the soft rustle of the naked trees in the wind. There was no movement or reflection off eyes.
He still felt as if he were being watched. Edin turned his back to the dark lighthouse. It had been a refuge once before. He began backing up, not taking his eyes off of the spot where he’d seen movement.
A thought crossed his mind. Was he seeing things again? It was quite probable. He wasn’t necessarily completely there, and the whiskey was like streaks on the windows of his eyes and brain at the moment.
Edin took a breath and headed for the lighthouse. It took a lot to turn his back on the forest, but he tried to keep his senses open. Edin knocked on the door, though he was certain no one was there. After a moment, he opened it.
The light entering from the small windows was scant. He saw the bench he’d laid Arianne on and the closet they’d hid in. All were like shadows in the barely illuminated room. The room smelled old and unclean. Edin let go of the door and took a step on the creaking floor.
The door slammed behind him and Edin turned while summoning a small ethereal ball to see. The light shined and offered nothing but the closed wooden door, rotten at the base and on its last legs. Or hinges as it were.
Edin took a moment and stepped back. Something seemed to snag his hair and Edin spun again, this time drawing his sword.
But when he looked, he saw nothing but a cobweb partially hanging from the wall. Edin spent a few moments catching his breath before he turned his attention upward. The rickety stairs that circled most of the lighthouse were still in place, though Edin wasn’t sure for how long, or if someone would come to fix them and far above, turn on the great sea light.
He moved toward the closet he hid in with Arianne, when he had carried her because she still hadn’t woken from overexerting herself as they headed north on the Dales Horn. She’d used all of her strength to save them… despite the fact she thought him a liar and a terrible person.
And I am, aren’t I? He thought.
If he wasn’t, he’d be with her. He would’ve jumped into the black hole and rushed through the freezing river with her. He’d have followed her, called for her, and found her. But he didn’t. Despite his memory of the situation, he thought he could’ve somehow made it into the water in the ice cavern.
He pulled open the closet door and saw mops crusted with age and old dust brooms and dustpans. A bucket held old water that stunk like a terribly flatulent sow and would’ve been filled with bugs had the insects been alive at this time of year.
Edin didn’t like how the place looked. He didn’t like how neglected everything was in this place. He felt a sort of homey feeling toward it despite only spending a day here, a day that saved their lives.
He set down the bottle on the old wooden table and took the bucket to the kitchen window. The window slid up with some difficulty and it was followed by a chilly breeze that pushed in like a cat through its cat door.
The wind wasn’t chilly, it was cold and he got gooseflesh. But for a few minutes he simply stared through the window at the moonlight on the waves as they rippled in the ocean.
“I’ll find you.” He said in his drunkenness.
After a w
hile, Edin realized where he was and what he was holding and dumped the boggy water out into the night and let the wind wash over him.
He stayed in that place for another minute before closing the window and looking around. There was a hearth to the left, though it was empty and cold. There was a single oil lantern near the kitchen sink. Edin picked it up and found it sans oil. He set it back and moved toward the hearth.
To the side of the hearth was an iron U-shaped rack for holding wood, but it was empty. With the moonlight shining in, he saw the figures projected on the wall behind. It took Edin a moment but his mind, like what happened with most people, saw a shape, one that wasn’t really there.
To Edin, it was a wolf’s head howling into the sky.
He needed a fire; he needed this loneliness. It was what he deserved. Edin made his way back to the front door to try and find wood. He stepped out into the night toward the forest.
His hackles rose. Edin was halfway to the path and the woods when he got that feeling of being watched again and remembered the movement in the forest.
How could he have forgotten? His mind was on Arianne, that was how. Edin stopped mid-step and tried looking around for the someone or the something that was watching him.
Edin was between the front door and the woods; there was no cover. Twenty feet to the right was the dock and freezing water. A small lip into the ocean on the left was only a few feet away.
Edin peered into the forest for a moment, he could light it up, summon a great ethereal ball that’d blind the person that was there. Or he could send a wave into the forest or a large gale forced wind. Edin ran through the possibilities in his head and was for the first time scared about everything he could do.
Edin steadied himself with his hand on his sword hilt and took a breath. “If anyone is out here, come out now.”
There was no response. He didn’t feel any suppression of a wan stone so he guessed that there wasn’t a Por Fen out there. Nor did he see the glint of an arrowhead or steal nor hear any movement.