A Mage's Power (Journey to Chaos) (27 page)

“That's because she thought we were standing guard!”

Tiza chuckled. “Yeah, a pair of novices are gonna fight off
a horde of C class that badly injured their sergeant. If you don't go to sleep,
I'm knocking you out!”

How could he sleep when Aio's body lay next to him? The cold
lump of flesh used to be the bright-eyed and energetic form of his best friend.
Something hard and hollow whacked him and Tiza's scabbard hovered over him. He lay
down to appease her, but sleep was long in coming. His mind replayed the
horrors he witnessed: The xethras’ slaughter, Basilard half dead, life drain
from Aio's . . .

He woke up to the smell of sizzling meat. He felt refreshed
after his nap and the smell reminded him he hadn't eaten. He opened his eyes to
see Nolien cooking over his floating fire.

“You're pretty good with fire spells.”

Eric sat up. “Thanks.”

“Enough chit-chat,” Anuzat said. “How are you going to get
me out of here?”

“That's not our job,” Nolien said. He passed sandwiches to
his teammates and client along with a bottle of water. “Our job is to guard you
as you travel.”

“That's right!” Tiza said smugly. She took a large bite from
her sandwich and washed it down with a swig from her bottle. “
You
guide
us
out!”

 Anuzat grew angrier by the second so Eric added, “We'll
guard you while you do that.”

It pacified her, somewhat. She reached into her pouch,
pulled out a map, and spread it out. “This isn't the right map . . .” Her paw
dug in her pouch for a solid minute.

“We're
not
picking a random direction,” Nolien said.

Tiza huffed. “It worked last time.”

“That was
luck!
”

“
Woman's intuition!
”

They glared briefly at each other before turning away;
Nolien straightening his tunic and Tiza playing with her shield straps. Eric
looked from one to the other and then to their client.

“We'll figure something out.” Anuzat sighed.
She doesn't
believe me . . .I don't believe me.

“If only I had better guards . . .” Anuzat put the map away.
“My map wouldn't have been lost.”

“Then you should have hired regulars or seniors,” Nolien
said.

“That would destroy my profit margin!” Anuzat protested.

“Well, now you've destroyed your life!” Tiza mocked. How she
could say that was beyond Eric. Anuzat slumped and sighed dejectedly. “Not so
full of hot air now, are ya?”

Eric jumped up. “That's it! Tiza, you're a genius!”

“Well, of course I am,” Tiza said without missing a beat.

Nolien shook his head. “Eric, would you mind explaining why
Tiza is a genius?”

“Hot air! Hot air is going to get us out!”

Tiza jerked her thumb in his direction. “I think our
Dimwit's cracked.”

The healer's posture was more thoughtful. “No, he may be on
to something. Hot air—”

“We can follow it up!”

The battle mage was already working out the mechanics.
Simple hot air wouldn't work; it would rise straight up and through the
ceiling. He needed a verse that described hot air following caverns.
It
would have to be a combination of fire and wind . . .
When he came to that
conclusion, he grimaced.

Wind was a slippery element and he had little practice. Fire
meant he couldn't use his staff. If the four of them were as deep as he feared,
he doubted his strength alone could power it long enough.

“Nolien, do you mind if I use your staff?”

Nolien shot him a look of confusion and disgust. Staves were
sacred to their mages. By working together, they developed a spiritual bound.
Old Man Aaloon was the definitive example: he pogoed on his staff as if it were
his legs. This special relationship was so widely accepted that stealing a
mage's staff was legally considered “kidnapping.”  

“I know I'm asking a lot, but I need to use it. I can't use
my own because it has issues.” His staff pulsed in his hands. “Well, you do.”

Nolien's eyes held a despairing depth. He knew it was the
only way, but by the way his hands tightened and held his staff close to his body,
he didn't want it to be. “I'm sorry, Eric . . . I can't.”

Tiza swatted him. “We're lost and you'd rather hold onto
your staff?!”

“Would you mind giving him your sword?” Tiza's hand flew to
cover her hilt. “I thought so.”

Might as well try.
“Crimson fire, grant my desire!
Fireball!” Not even a spark. He put his staff down, spoke the verse again, and
held a roaring fire.

“Great . . .” Anuzat moaned. “I'm gonna die because my
battle mage's staff is afraid of fire.”

I'll have to do it without one . . .
But first.
“Who’s
going to carry Basilard and Aio?”

Even if Basilard was awake, Eric doubted he'd be able to
move and he refused to let Aio rot or become food for monsters. He would gladly
have carried his dearly departed friend but his job was to get them out. All
his strength and willpower had to be focused on the spell.

“I'll carry Basilard.” Tiza said. Silence answered her. “You
don't think I can do it.”

“Well . . . Basilard's a full grown man.” Nolien said
uneasily. “You're—”

“A
girl
?” she asked threateningly.

“A
child.
”

“Just let her carry him,” Anuzat groaned.

“What about Aio?” Beat. Where's Aio?!”

“We ate him while you were asleep,” Tiza said. “That was him
on the fire.”

Eric looked in horror at his sandwich and threw up. Which
made Tiza laugh. Which made Nolien scold her for inappropriate humor. Which
made Tiza snap at him for being unable to take a joke. Which made Anuzat
grumble about immature bodyguards.

“I really did put him in the fire. I figured ashes would be
easier to transport.”

She grabbed a jar from her pack and handed it to Eric. It
wasn't even half full.
This is all . . .all . . .  that's left of Aio . . .Ricse
.
Fresh tears fell down his cheek and into the jar. He closed the bottle and
placed it in his own pack. He wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

Tiza rolled hers and said, “Yeah, the junkie thought ahead.”

“Now that that's settled, can we move on to the more
important
matter of
getting out of here?”

“Working on it,” Eric said impatiently. He was steadily
beginning to dislike her.

He had the rhyme figured out, but that alone was nothing. If
one didn't know what materials were needed or how to put them together,
blueprints were useless.
I'll use the fire and wind  spells . . .best keep
this simple . . .but I still might . . .
He touched the jar.
I won't
screw up
! After deciding how the spell would work, he spoke the fire verse
again and transferred it to his right hand while holding his left one opened.

“Free wind, your power please lend.” With a great deal of
patience and concentration, the mage felt the mana in his hand change to moving
air.
Now for the hard part.

Making
elements work together was no easy feat. All
his book said on the subject was that it was a matter best left to experienced
mages who read his next volume,
Intermediate Magecraft
.
I'll have to
ignore that for now
. The novice took another deep breath and began the
spell.

“We who are lost in the dark bellow, show us the way to go.”
He held his hands palm up and side by side. “With your hot breath as our guide
. . .” He slowly joined his two hands. The fire and wind swirled around each
other. “. . .lead us to the great blue sky! Sky Seeker!” With all the willpower
in his spirit, he launched the spell and the elements surged forward in a
double helix.

Scooping up his staff, he ran after it and Tiza was the
first to dash after him, with Basilard on her back. “Do you think I spent my
free time
gossiping!?
”

The four followed the spell through tunnel after tunnel.
Small creatures scurried out of its way. One didn't move fast enough and it was
roasted by the double helix. Anuzat grabbed the corpse midhop and dropped it in
her pouch.

“I'm still hungry and I need to replace my lost merchandise.
I can sell the fur and find gold.”

“Gold?” Eric asked. The spell wavered.

“FOCUS ON THE SPELL!”

“Right!”

Eric cleared his mind of all thoughts but the double helix.
He shuddered to think what would happen to them if a C class noticed it. He
supposed he could use the light spell again, but what if it wasn't the xethras?
What if it's a creature that doesn't have eyes? Or some kind of black hole
monster that eats light?
The spell flickered and something hit his head.
With a sheepish apology, he renewed his focus.

It was like pushing a couch over shaggy carpet, only with
his mind instead of arms and the couch tried to fall apart. Wind leaked through
gaps in his concentration and fire burned it. Eventually, he didn't need to
worry about distractions because his mind was too tired to wander. All he could
think about was keeping the spell together and pushing it forwards. Eventually,
he couldn't see the cave walls, Tiza next to him, or Nolien at his other side;
the double helix consumed his entire vision.
This is my purpose. It is why I
exist. Keep the spell going. Keep the spell going. Keep the spell going.

Eric tripped, but Anuzat hopped forward and caught him. He
looked at the stranger with what he hoped was appreciation. He didn't know how
to speak, but hoped he still knew how to look happy.

“Spell!” Eric nodded; the spell was the only thing he
remembered. He was horrified to see it fading.
Precious! Precious mustn’t
die!
He poured all his remaining willpower and it flared into life. He
sighed in relief and gently feed it.

His legs were no longer moving but he was still moving
forward; bounce, bounce bounce, up and down, up and down, up and down. It was
weird, but he couldn't be bothered with such a meager thing because he had to
keep his Precious alive.

Feeding Precious was hard; the stuff was running out. Now
that he thought about it, what did he feed Precious? He couldn't remember for
the life of him. In fact, he couldn't remember anything before Precious.
Nothing
existed before Precious
.
Me and Precious came into existence at the same
time and I've been taking care of Precious ever since
. He didn't know how
long “ever since” was; “a long time” was good enough. After all, it didn't
matter how long he'd been taking care of Precious because it wasn't relevant to
taking care of Precious.

The world grew dark. It puzzled Eric because Precious burned
bright as ever. Precious gave him light so why was the world getting dark? He
had to feed Precious more of the stuff! There was no more stuff!
Precious is
going to die!
In desperation, he reached for something—Pain!

 . . . . . . . . . . .  . . .

“You know, for a greedy and self-centered hustler, you're
all right.”

“And for a foul-mouthed and over-confident brat, you are
too.” He heard a ruffling of something and Tiza protesting playfully.
What's
going on?

Eric opened his eyes. It was dark and very cold and he was
laying in a bed of sand with a blanket over him. His body was heavy and his
mind was fuzzy. He'd
never
felt this bad; not even when those four punks
in high school beat him up.

“So when the does the book say he'll wake up?” Tiza's hair
was messier than usual.

Eric heard pages shuffle and then Nolien's voice. “It varies,
depending on the willpower of the mage, the intensity of the spell and its
duration. Then there's the fact you knocked him out.”

“You told me to! How long?”

“Tomorrow morning. And you didn't seem to mind hitting him.”

Eric tried to tell him he was awake but his tongue felt like
it was bolted to the floor of his mouth and his lips sewn together. With
nothing else to do, he went back to sleep. When he woke up again, the sun was
up and blaring. He was so hot he pushed the blanket off and promptly noticed it
was actually Anuzat's cloak. He suddenly felt ashamed of his growing
resentment.

Team Four was in a desert. The mountains were behind him
while before him were endless fields of sun-baked sand. Basilard lay next to
him. More of his wounds had closed up and color was returning to his face. His
teammates and Anuzat were seated around a drowned fire. He tried to speak, but
his throat was so dry he succeeded only in coughing.

 Nolien brought him a flask. “Don't drink too much.” Eric
nodded and wetted his throat.

“What happened? I can't remember anything after casting the
spell.”

“We think you had a mild case of Willpower Depletion.”
Nolien said. “It's when a mage puts too much willpower into a spell over an
extended period of time.”

Eric blinked.

“You went insane,” Tiza said simply. “The spell burst out of
the cave and fell apart. Then you started glowing and shouting 'Precious!' You
had this mad look in your eyes. I had to knock you out.”

“Am I okay now?”

“You should be,” Nolien said, “According to Sergeant
Basilard's book . . .” He flushed. “
Advanced Magecraft . . .
all you
needed was rest. Still, you should avoid using magic for a while.”

Eric nodded. “So we're out of the cave, now what?”

Anuzat pulled out the map from earlier. It was made of cloth
and frayed at the edges.
“Chiefdom of Kyraa
” was printed along the top
in faded black letters. The Yacian Mountains were on the far left and the rest
was endless sand and scattered oasis. In the center of the desert was a crater
and at the center of that a dot marked a shrine. Anuzat pointed to a dot
nearby.

“This is our destination: The Stone Pile.”

“That's what it's called?” Eric asked.

“The people of Kyraa are nomadic.” Anuzat explained. “They're
not fond of permanent dwellings but they made one for diplomacy.”