The Source

by Dale Broda, Jr

outside the forest, looking across the farm fields. There was a darkness there. The town that should have been the end of his journey was not easy to see.

  “What happened?” He didn’t look at the woman that was walking by him.

  She glanced at him, her eyes drifted to the girl on his back. “I’ve never seen hair that color before.” She smiled. “Or eyes like that. How are you little one?”

  The tart snorted. “I’m not little!”

  “How long have you been awake?”

  She resisted his attempt to dislodge her. Was he that tired?

  “Long enough.” The tart sounded content about that. The woman watched the exchange, her smudged face cracked into a smile.

  “How sweet. What is that accent little one?” Silence. “What? Not going to talk to me?” She snorted. “That wasn’t very polite for a young lady.” She looked back at the village. What was left of it. “As you can see, sir, nature happened.” She shook her head. “Some people are still there but just look at it.” He was.

  This was not the same place he had come through a few weeks ago. No. This was a haunted place. The wind was doing something strange. Twisting smoke funnels swirled in different sections of the place and none seemed related to the other. Above the town itself, the sky was dark.

  What in the hells?

  “I know.” The woman nodded. “Nature? Hmph! Our magic instruments tell us that is what it is but look at it. That is no natural thing I’ve ever seen.” She turned, headed down the road to the south. “I’d take your little wife–”

  “She’s not my wife!” He snarled.

  The woman laughed. “Oh? Did you see the glares she was sending me? No?” The woman laughed again. “Men. You know so little.” He wanted to shout at her but, what was the point? As he had discovered long ago, women always thought they were the smarter sex.

  “Old hag…” He glanced over his shoulder at the tart who was, indeed, sending a glare after the woman.

  He shook his head. She lifted her hands up, right into his face. “Is there any particular reason I’m tied like this?”

  He sneered. “I was getting ready to leave you here.”

  “I see.” Her voice was soft. “Bound and gagged and dropped off to the safety and completely innocent hands of strangers?” He stared as the make shift ropes burned away. He didn’t feel any heat at all, even that close to what had to be fire. “How thoughtful of you.”

  He let go suddenly, hoping she’d drop off his back like the rabid monkey she was. She didn’t. She let out a squeak and wrapped her arms around his neck. He stood there, her grip tight enough to choke but no way was he letting her know this bugged him.

  You will let go before I grab your legs girl.

  And she did.

  He turned to look down at her. “Do you think you’re safe with me? Why am I, a stranger, any different from those I would have left you with?” He found himself honestly curious.

  She yawned, stretching this way and that. Served her right, letting him carry her like that. She moved to get a better view of the town, not meeting his eye. He noticed her blue and black leathers had changed somehow. They were more form fitting. Something. He didn’t have an eye for such things, but he did know something was different. He couldn’t put his finger on it.

  “The Source. It took me up into its plan and now, its taken you as well.” She looked out across the horizon. “This is just another way for it to control us.” After a moment, she shook her head. “No. This one is not for me.” She tilted her head. “This is for you. To control you. It did not do this to force me on. You and I are not parting until my quest is done.”

  He snorted.

  We’ll see.

  He strode by her to stand in the middle of the crossing.

  She moved next to him. “We must go east.” She stared down the empty road. He did not follow her gaze. He puzzled over the darkness to the north.

  That village was the only one I knew of in these parts. And it’s destroyed.

  He didn’t need to get closer to see the strange artifacts whipping up and around and the bizarre colors swirling through the buildings. You don’t need to get close to a fire to know it’s a fire. This was bad magic of some kind. Some thing he had never seen before. It was even reaching out across the fields.

  The way north would be blocked. He could see a few dark shapes coming towards them but depending on the time of the…whatever the hells happened… many would have left the village in any direction they could.

  He looked down at the tart. She was watching the woman quickly vanish into the distance. She looked up to catch him watching her. A small smile vanished from her face, quickly replaced with a serious glower.

  “I told you. East.”

  He nodded. “So you did. And how far, exactly?” He didn’t like this. This was a trap. Somehow. Somewhere he had been snared. When? Where? How to cut the snare?

  He fingered one of his knives, studying the tart as she shrugged, looking to the east again. His vision blurred slightly. What–

  She again caught him looking. This time, she shook her head as she glanced at his hand. “Are you thinking of killing me?”

  Could she see through him that easily? “No.”

  Her lips turned into something that was less than a smile. “You lie. Again.” She sighed. “Always with the lies. Why? You seemed polite enough to that old hag.”

  “She wasn–”

  “So why is it so hard to tell me truth? Do you think I’m a child?” She frowned. “What do your dead friends have to say about that? Your dear dear friends?” She placed her hands on her hips, humphed, and began walking the eastern road.

  “What do you think of that?” No answer. “Where are you?” Nothing. Where were they? He had never went this long without them popping up around him.

  He stared upward, waiting. “Did you leave me at last? Called away into that blissful darkness?”

  “Hey!” The tart shouted. She was a ways down the eastern road now. “Come on.” No answer came from above. Grumbling, he let his gaze fall and followed.

  17

  “Where are we going exactly?” He growled under his breath, trying to think of what the possible destination could be. “There’s….” what was out this far heading east on this road? “Nothing.”

  “Ah, my silly little mule man.” He let that go. All day she had been pestering him for his name. When they stopped to drink or eat. Just when he had thought she would shut up it started again. Seemed she would just keep calling him different things till he finally told her his name. “The Source needs to go east. It’s that simple. I’m not sure where exactly it is taking us, but I know it’s close.”

  He sighed. “The only thing this far east, in these wild lands is nothing and more–” He stopped.

  No. It couldn’t be.

  She froze, looking around. “What is it?” Little sparks of red began to form up around her, drifting slowly into the sky.

  His leg hurt.

  His body hurt.

  His eye itched.

  The Source.

  “Souc’lla.” He whispered. There was no way that could be a coincidence. He frowned at her. “An old name, girl. It was old before man was young.”

  “Souc’lla.” It sounded strange on her tongue. “What does it mean?” Her eyes bore into his own as she took a step closer.

  He felt a chill . “Source.”

  “What?” She frowned. “Are you teasing–”

  “Souc’lla means Source in the ancient tongue.” Not many knew that here, it was doubtful any across the sea would know. He only knew because of a campfire tale when they were close to it, many many years ago on a failed campaign against a magic abusing madman.

  She nodded, smiling at last. “So…the Source is taking us to…the Source? Now do you see? Do you feel the ropes around you? Pulling you along. Tying you to me–”

  He grimaced. “I’m not tied to–”

  That’s strange...

  A lig
ht red cloud sprang up before him.

  He watched as it slowly floated over the girl.

  Her face morphed. Her smile vanished. Eyes widened. Mouth opened. Something green and black and cold as hell jumped out of her, knocking him off his feet.

  It tore into his chest. No…it…what was going on?

  He watched a line of yellow flash over him, splashing away from the girl. Her mouth was open, her teeth clenched in an impressive snarl as she hopped on top of him. He felt something wet leaking down from his eye.

  Something the sprite had done? Is that what I feel?

  It was cold. Ice cold.

  More yellow lances of power splashed away around her from all sides as she began tossing magic around.

  Red balls of death.

  Her eyes were wild when she glanced down at him. Flecks of red sizzled away from her face. Not red like her magic. No, this was…

  Blood!

  As he realized that, he looked down. The front of his chest had been torn open. At least his leathers were. His flesh was sliced along his ribs. A flap of skin and muscle hung there where someone had missed their mark.

  So it’s My blood. Hrmph.

  Whatever that green and black thing was that had left the girl, it was crawling over his wound. Stopping the blood and mending the flesh. He could see a line or purest white, cold as any winter, weaving in and out of him as well. He had no idea what was going on. Maybe that was for the best.

  Another ambush. I am getting old. And look at my protector? How sad…

  The girl…Gen…stood over him, the yellow lances were fewer, but they were pushing her this way and that even as she continued to toss her own magic. She refused to leave him. What was this? She had left her other