A Touch of Magic (32 page)

The news was like a flood of ice water down Randall’s spine. Along with the shock came a sense of distaste for the Mage in front of him.

“And you’re still saving your own skin, I see,” Randall spat.

The accusation rocked Shawncy’s head back as if he’d been slapped. “No, you ungrateful little bastard! I’m trying to save yours! Aiden is on his way here to take care of you personally while you’re alone and unprotected! That’s why you have to run! I barely made it in time to warn you!”

Randall sighed, and voiced the decision he had been forming in the back of his mind for months “I will not run,” he declared resolutely. For better or worse, he was going to face Aiden here, and now. Someone had to stand up to him. Someone had to make him pay for all of the pain he had caused. “I will fight him here. And if it is my fate, I will die here. But I am through running.”

“He’s not alone, Randall. He’s got Mages with him! You can’t win!”

“We can win,” Randall said, holding onto a hard knot of confidence in the pit of his stomach. All fear had fled, and he felt death on the wind and on his fingertips. He felt powerful, and for once, it wasn’t Llandra whispering in his ears that made him feel so.

“Randall, please!” Shawncy pled, begging, his horse pawing the earth nervously.

“You have to trust me,” Randall said, calmly. “I’m going to show you something, and you have to trust me, all right? We aren’t the only ones who will be standing against Aiden.”

The panic in Shawncy’s eyes was momentarily replaced by confusion.” What do you mean?” he asked.

“Berry,” Randall called. “Come on, Berry. It’s time you stopped hiding.”

At Randall’s call, the little imp leapt from the bedroll where it had been concealed under the blanket, and scampered up his arm to his favorite spot.

Shawncy dropped the elf light he was holding and his eyes grew wide as saucers, and his jaw worked up and down wordlessly for several moments. It was as if this final surprise had knocked all sense from him. “A donnan!” he finally managed to work out, still staring at the little man. He instinctively pulled on his horse’s reins, causing it to dance backwards several steps.

“This is my friend,” Randall said. “His name is Berry. He will fight with us.”

Comprehension flooded Shawncy’s features, followed quickly by fear and revulsion. After several long seconds, he said “Randall. I...I can’t. I can’t do it.” His eyes had never left the little imp crouched on Randall’s shoulder.

“A donnan!” Shawncy whispered again, almost as if he were talking to himself instead of Randall. Suddenly, he wheeled his horse around and fled into the night without another word.

“Still saving your own skin, I see,” Randall whispered bitterly to the Mage’s fleeing back.

Chapter 18

Randall saw the approaching Mages before they saw him. He had taken the pole with the elf light that Shawncy had dropped, and stood it upright in the middle of his camp. Then he and Berry hid in the tall grass, some distance away. He didn’t have long to wait before a knot of four or five men came into view. They were traveling more carefully than Shawncy had been, the bright moonlight overhead giving them barely enough illumination with which to make their way. When they spotted the elf light, the lead rider motioned for the others to stop. He dismounted, and the others followed suit. There were five of them; too many for Randall to take out on his own!

They were too far away for Randall to make out any facial features, but as they crept up on his camp, the leader drew a long, slender wand from his side. It was Aidan! It had to be! Randall’s heart hammered in his chest as he watched the group move closer to his camp. If he was going to have any chance at all, he was going to have to take them by surprise.

Randall took a deep breath and opened himself wide to Llandra when they were about fifty yards away. He feared the power wouldn’t come, as nervous as he was, but the magic flooded into him like a river. Instantly, the fear and doubt left him, and he felt suffused with power. Why was he hiding from these men? These...insects? He knew he could crush them easily, with but a word. He began to rise, as his mind shaped the power.

No!
Randall cried to himself, fighting down the urge to show himself and cause the men to cower before him.
It’s just the power euphoria. Keep your wits about you!

A half a heartbeat later, he had gathered enough power for what he intended to do. If he was going to win this battle, he was going to have to do it in the first blow.

“Grd’zx’kan!” Randall shouted from his hidden vantage, pushing out power to join with the word, giving it life.

But he was too late! As he began shouting the word, he felt Llandra open itself to the men like a whip crack in his mind. They had reacted so quickly! And they were so strong! As the sky opened up, a chorus of shouts came from the group of men, each desperately trying to shield himself from the white hot death from above.

Lighting flashed down into the men, blinding Randall with its intensity. The thunderclap knocked him backward, and smaller forks of lightning shot outward from his target, setting the tall grass alight. It took Randall’s vision several seconds to clear, but when it did, he saw that of the five men he had tried to kill, three were still standing. And one of them was Aidan! Weariness crashed down on his shoulders as the cost of the spell took its toll, and he struggled to catch his breath to begin the fight in earnest.

“He’s weakened himself,” Aidan called out to the two other Mages still standing. “Now we just have to find him.”

Randall felt Aidan draw power as he barked a series of short demonic words. The grass fire nearest to the Mage appeared to grow brighter, as if being fanned by a brisk wind. The flame grew, rising up like a bonfire, until the tongues of flame leapt higher than the Mage’s head. Then, from the heart of the flames, stepped a huge dog. Berry hissed a warning, tensing up on Randall’s shoulder.

It wasn’t a dog! It walked like a dog, and vaguely resembled a dog, but instead of fur, it appeared to be covered in porcupine quills. The creature rose up on its hind legs like a squirrel, sniffing the air tentatively. The creature’s mouth had shaggy protuberances that looked like spider fangs, dripping a viscous fluid. Upright, the monstrosity easily stood a hand span taller than Aidan! Then another stepped from the flames!

“Find him,” Aidan commanded, and the twin horrors fanned out and began nosing the tall grass, like bloodhounds looking for a scent. Every so often the creatures would raise their heads, as if sniffing the air, and Randall would feel an odd pulse from Llandra, almost as if the aberration was casting a spell. Each time it happened, Randall could feel a faint answering pulse, from himself! They were tracking him! Through Llandra!

Randall struggled to control his breathing, as he fought the weariness that dogged him. He hoped that he had time to regain some of his strength before he had to face the beasts. Berry hissed and chittered, pacing agitatedly on his shoulder. But he did so quietly, as if he knew that they must remain hidden. But time was not a luxury that Randall had. After only moments, the nearest of the beasts gave out a high pitched howl, and began loping directly for their position! Berry leapt from Randall’s shoulder screaming a challenge, high pitched and menacing, like the cry of a bobcat.

As Berry crashed through the tall grass toward the pair of monstrosities, Randall felt the donnan gather a tremendous amount of power from Llandra. And the instant he did so, fire roared toward him from the surviving Mages. They were trying to kill Berry! As the flames raced toward the imp, Randall shouted out the Word that would shield his friend, pushing the small amount of power he had left into the spell. A translucent bubble popped into place around the imp, only to be shattered moments later as it was struck by twin columns of flame. Berry screamed his own spell, and the nearest dog beast exploded from the inside out.

“He has help!” Aidan screamed. “There are two of them! Kill them both!”

Randall again opened himself to Llandra, feeling the power surge within him. He felt achy and his insides felt abused as he drew upon more power from the fairy world. Another column of flame roared his way, and he dodged, rolling to one side. He quickly popped up and pointed a finger at the first Mage he saw, shouting “Vinn!” The word ripped through his already raw vocal chords, leaving Randall retching and coughing, but it had the desired effect as the Mage burst into a spray of guts and gore.

As Randall doubled over, Aidan shouted out an unfamiliar Word. Before Randall could react, hot metal shards exploded out from the other Mage’s outstretched hand, spraying shrapnel into tall grass around where Randall had dropped. Randall felt like he had been kicked by horse as one of the pieces slammed into his shoulder, and another lodged itself deep into his right thigh. Unable to help himself, he fell to the ground, crying out in pain. Dimly, he was aware of a strong pulse of power from Berry, and the death cry of another one of the Mages. Randall hoped it was Aidan.

Randall rolled over and struggled to his knees. Looking over the grass, he saw Berry and the last dog beast locked in mortal combat, fighting fang and claw. Surprisingly, the little imp was holding his own, scratching and tearing at the monster. A short distance away, Aidan stood, watching the pair fight, a look of surprise on his face. He was completely absorbed in the battle, and Randall knew that this was his last chance.

Pushing his last dregs of power out, he called out to the lightning. As he sang the Word, Aidan snapped back into focus and quickly bellowed out an answering spell. The lightning missed Aidan by a wide mark, instead slamming into the ground far behind him. Aidan then shouted the Word of fire, and Randall knew it was over. He had no time to gather any power to erect a shield. He wasn’t even sure if he could. He had channeled more energy in this battle than he ever had before in such a short time. But the column of flame never reached him. Instead, it had been directed at the two fighting creatures before him! Randall heard them both scream in anguish as the fire washed over them.

Berry! Randall opened himself to Llandra and tried to shield his small friend from the flames, but the Word broke against his ravaged vocal chords, and all Randall could manage was a rasp, followed by a coughing fit. Randall tasted blood, and spit mixed with the vital fluid as it drooled down his chin. Randall knew he had lost. Berry was dead, and he could not manage the simplest Word to save himself. Weak from his wounds, he sunk down, putting his forehead on his arms and sobbed silently. He didn’t look up as Aidan approached, hoping the end would come quickly.

“You know, I was planning on killing you,” the Mage growled. “You’ve caused me an awful lot of trouble for such a young boy. But to summon the Harbinger? That’s...astounding! When Shawncy told me you had a gift for the demonic arts, I had no idea you had such talent!”

Shawncy? Berry, summoned? Harbinger? Randall was in too much pain to make much sense of Aidan’s words. He looked up at the Mage in confusion.

“Oh, didn’t you know?” Aidan asked sarcastically, putting his hand to his lips in mock innocence. “Oh yes, the little coward has been guiding you to me ever since you escaped me in that nasty little cesspool you called home. We heard rumors that Erliand had made some kind of breakthrough, but when we didn’t find it, we assumed he had given it to you. But now, I see that
you
are what he’s been hiding all along!”

So it hadn’t been Edwin that had turned traitor. It had been Shawncy!
But then why did he ride out here to warn me?
Randall would probably die without ever knowing the answer to that question.

Randall tried to call forth the flames, but the Word died on his lips, his body wracked by blood-choked coughs. Given enough time, the talisman he wore would heal him, but that was time that he didn’t have, and he no longer had the strength to juice it up.

Reminded of the hard lump under his tunic, Randall knew what Erliand had really been hiding. And he knew that if this man got his hands on it, he would become nearly invincible.
I’m not going to let that happen
, he vowed to himself. His shoulder crying out in pain, he drew the dagger from his hip, holding it menacingly before him as he lay on the ground.

“Oh please,” Aidan snorted, as he ground the tip of his boot into Randall’s wounded shoulder. The younger Mage’s mouth opened wide in silent pain, followed by another round of coughs. “Your voice is ruined, and you don’t even have the strength to stab me with that thing if you wanted to.”

It was true. Randall rolled over and tried to bury the dagger in the other man’s foot, but he barely had the strength to scratch the leather of Aidan’s boot. With his wounds and loss of blood, he couldn’t even muster the physical strength to push the thing through the leather. But there had to be a way! He couldn’t give up! His mind raced furiously to his early lessons, looking for any dirty trick that Master Erliand had taught him that could save him now. And then he seized upon an idea. He had no hope of it working, but it was his only chance. Again, he slashed feebly at the tip of Aidan’s boot.

“Come now, boy,” Aiden cajoled, “Give up the fight and join me. Even with all of your Talent, there is still much for you to learn. We can pool our knowledge, and you can become my apprentice! Imagine how much more powerful I will be when you teach me to summon a donnan!”

As Aidan spoke, Randall continued to slash weakly at his boot with the dagger. After getting no response from Randall, Aidan snarled and kicked the dagger from the boy’s hand.

“You don’t know when you’re beat, do you, boy?” the Mage growled. “No matter. I will eventually learn the trick on my own anyway. Still, it would have been deliciously ironic to have Erliand’s apprentice by my side. But since that seems unlikely...” He stepped away and began gathering magic.

Randall still had a small reserve of his own magic from when he had tried to shield Berry from Aidan’s spell. He seized that power and pushed it out, hard. At the same time, he opened himself to Llandra to channel as much power as he could into his spell. The power tore through him, sending fresh waves of pain through already abused nerves. Aidan felt the surge of power and looked down to follow the other’s gaze.

“What? No!” cried Aiden, as he felt the surge of power that tore through Randall and into his boot. The boot which now had a tiny rune carved into its surface. It wasn’t a neat rune. It wasn’t the rune as Master Erliand would have written it. It wasn’t made of fine lines and well-formed angles. But within it was every sense of strength that Randall could conjure. It was rough and haggard, made of hard lines and strong, squat angles. It was perfect.

There was a sound like a thunderclap, which deafened Randall and left him momentarily senseless. After several long moments, clutching the grass and fighting unconsciousness, he managed to raise his head. Standing in front of him was a perfectly formed statue of Aidan, seemingly carved out of the purest dwarven steel. The rune had worked! The weight of exhaustion crashed down on him like a ton of bricks, and it was only by fighting with all of his might that he was able to hold onto consciousness.

“Berry,” he whispered, and the word came out like a croak. He knew he didn’t dare to hope for another miracle, but hope was the only thing he had left to hang on to.

Using the last of his willpower, Randall crawled to where his friend lie charred and motionless next to the burned remains of the beast he was fighting. Randall rolled over onto his back, panting heavily as he struggled to fish the healing talisman out from under his tunic. Finally, he was able to free the relic. Reaching over, Randall pressed the talisman against the tiny imp’s limp torso, before he allowed darkness to overcome him.

* * *

It was a tiny trickle of liquid on his lips that finally brought Randall out of the depths of his near coma. He was still lying on his back, and the foul-tasting concoction pooled at the back of his throat, and he rolled over to cough up the liquid. Coughing brought fresh spasms of pain to his chest and throat, and a weak moan escaped his lips. Cracking his eyes open a mere slit, he saw that it was bright daylight outside. Squinting against the sun’s glare, he saw a tiny brown figure, holding a spoon and dancing from foot to foot. When the little man saw that Randall was finished coughing, he tried to spoon more liquid into the prone youth’s mouth.