Nature Mage (48 page)

The Warg was stepping through the curtain of red light now, a hungry expression on its vicious face. Gaspi gave Hephistole a meaningful look and glanced first at the hole, then at the medallion, and then at his foot, which he swung slightly. Understanding dawned on Hephistole’s face, and he gave the tiniest nod of assent. Gaspi didn’t hesitate, but stepped over to the buzzing device. He took aim, and lifted his foot.

“You don’t want to do that,” growled the Warg, not understanding Gaspi’s intent. Gaspi judged the distance, and deftly swung his foot.

“Run!” he shouted at Hephistole, who needed no urging to keep pace with the skittering object. Gaspi’s kick looked like it might not have been hard enough, the skidding device slowing down earlier than he’d expected, but it slid just far enough that the edge of the dome of light extended out over the hole, leaving just enough room for someone to drop through. Seeing the danger, the Warg growled and leaped at Gaspi, just as Gaspi threw himself into a slide along the floor, the Warg’s jaws snapping loudly in the empty air where Gaspi had just been standing. He spun onto his front as he slid, looking backwards at the monstrous creature as it bounded towards him, its savage jaws opening wide as it reached for him. Gaspi braced himself for the inevitable bite, but then he felt his feet slide out over nothing. He slipped out of the hole like a trout from a fisherman’s hands, and just had enough time to flash the briefest of smiles at the dread creature’s furious face.

Falling through the air, his stomach flying right up into his throat, Gaspi had an infinitesimal moment to acknowledge that the device had indeed negated the magic of the hole, before the panic of a person falling to his death overtook him. He tumbled head over heels, rooms and ceilings flashing past in bewildering succession, the floor of the atrium rushing up beneath him. Gaspi screamed, too panicked to be able to draw on his magic. The impact was only a microsecond away, his heart thumping madly in his chest; and then suddenly the air thickened around him, slowing him so abruptly that his flesh felt like it was pressing into his bones. And then he stopped completely, hovering for a brief second about a foot above the ground. He let out an enormous breath before the magic let go of him altogether, and he landed face first on the hard plinth.

Bouncing to his feet, he ran to the entranceway, where Taurnil and the guards were still battling the last two Wargs. Taurnil was just finishing one of them off with a blow to the neck, when Gaspi ran out of the tower. Voltan arrived at the same time, stalking out one of the passageways with three guards on his tail, including the enormous Baard, whose wild red beard was matted with blood that ran from a cut on his head.

“Taurnil, Voltan, we’ve got to get up to Hephistole’s office. He’s trapped up there!” Gaspi said urgently. Taurnil immediately broke away from the fight with the last Warg, which was surrounded by too many guardsmen, snarling its anger and hatred even in the face of inevitable death. Gaspi led Voltan and Taurnil to the transporter.

“What are we facing up there?” Voltan asked brusquely.

“Hephistole’s caught by a massive Warg. There’s some kind of device that stops him using magic,” he said. “The Warg’s really resistant to magic - so Taurnil, you’ll have the best chance at fighting it.”

“Okay...let’s go,” the fierce magician said, urging them to get onto the plinth. He spoke the word of command, and the three of them appeared a moment later in Hephistole’s office.

“It’s round the other side,” Gaspi said, leading them quickly round the interior of the Chancellor’s long office. He could hear the sounds of struggle from up ahead, and was fearful of what that might mean. “It’s just a bit further,” he whispered. ”By the hole.”

Urgency sped their steps as they neared the spot, both Gaspi and Voltan summoning power to the tips of their fingers, and Taurnil bringing up his staff in readiness.  They stepped round the last part of the curving wall, and found Hephistole flat on his back, using his long legs to scurry backwards away from the enormous Warg. Somehow he had escaped from the magical field and was now fighting for his life, throwing spells into the snarling creature’s face that would have floored anything else, but which only slowed the magic-resistant Warg down. It snapped and snarled its way through each spell, bearing inexorably down on the chancellor.

Gaspi’s hair stood on end as Voltan released a spear of blazing white light. He shouted in defiance as he released it, catching the Warg full in the face as it turned to face him. The Warg dipped its head, seemingly in pain, giving Hephistole the time he needed to scramble to his feet and back away.

“Go for its eyes!” Voltan shouted. All three Magicians cast their spells at once, and the Warg was struck in the face by a three-pronged attack. Voltan had thrown another blinding white spear, Hephistole a stinging globe of sparkling red particles, and Gaspi had seized an ornate letter opener with his power, and sent it flying right into one of the creature’s eyes. The Warg reared up in pain, the letter opener quivering in its right eye, fluid running down its face from the terrible wound.

With a loud shout, Taurnil leapt forward, his glowing staff held high above his head. The Warg turned to face him, an avalanche-like growl rumbling in its throat as it launched itself towards this new attacker. Taurnil stopped short, judged the momentum of the Warg, and brought his staff down in a crushing blow, aiming for its neck. The Warg shifted to the side at the last second, and Taurnil’s staff slammed heavily into its ribs. The Warg let out a doglike whimper, as a loud snapping noise punctuated the sounds of battle. Limping backwards in obvious pain and surprise, it turned its baleful eye to its tormentor, glaring at him as if searing him into its memory.

“This is not the end,” it growled in its broken voice; and, spinning around, it leaped into the dome of light. Taurnil hefted his staff above his head once again. All three magicians summoned power to their fingertips, but the Warg ran quickly to the device, pressing on its centre with a heavy paw. With an intense buzzing vibration it disappeared, the red light winking out of existence.

Taurnil lowered his staff, as the three magicians stood for a long moment of frozen shock. “That was a transporter,” Hephistole said hoarsely, breaking the silence. “It was meant to take me with it.”

“Take you where?” Gaspi asked.

“There’ll be time for all that later,” Voltan said firmly, ushering the shaken Chancellor to a seat. “You two get to the infirmary,” he said.

“But sir...” Gaspi said.Voltan raised a hand to quiet him.

“I promise you, you will find out everything later - but for now, please go to the infirmary,” he said. “I will check on you later.”

“Okay,” Gaspi said grudgingly, eyeing the fragile-looking Chancellor, who looked shaken for the first time since Gaspi had known him. He turned and started walking away with Taurnil, heading for the transporter.

“Gaspi,” Hephistole called gently after him. Gaspi turned around. “Thank you,” he said.

Gaspi nodded, smiling wearily. “You’re welcome, Heppy,” he said, and walked away.

Emea waited anxiously in the infirmary. It seemed like forever since Gaspi and Taurnil had walked out of the door, and as the stream of new casualties slowed and then dwindled to almost nothing, she had far too much time on her hands and nothing to do except worry. She wouldn’t allow herself to finish any thought that started with
what if
, but despite her resolve she couldn’t stop tension building up, until she was blinking back tears that seemed determined to form in her eyes every few minutes. Jonn came in at one point to check on her and let her know he was okay. Grateful for his visit, it wasn’t long after he left to look for Gaspi and Taurnil that worry consumed her again. When the door swung open and her two battle-stained friends walked through it she abandoned restraint altogether and flew into their arms, kissing them both over and over amidst a constant flow of unchecked tears.

It was Taurnil who broke away first, looking around anxiously. “Where’s Lydia?” he asked.

“Have you seen Jonn?” Gaspi added.

“Jonn’s fine,” Emea said, placing a reassuring hand on Gaspi’s arm. “Taurn,” she continued gently. “There’s nothing to worry about...but Lydia was brought in not long ago.”

“What happened?” he asked, stricken with worry despite Emea’s assurances.”

“She was fighting one of those demons,” Emea said with a shudder. “It got the better of her and started draining her power, but two magicians came along just in time and killed it. She’ll be okay, Taurn,” Emea said gently, placing a hand on his tense forearm. “The other magicians got there in time, and she just needs to rest.”

“Are you telling me I can’t see her?” Taurnil said, tension straining his normally gentle manner.

“Good grief, no!” Emea said. “She won’t stop asking about you. Come and see her right now, so she can sleep.”

Emea led Taurnil and Gaspi to an annex of the infirmary, where Lydia lay abed, staring out of the large window into the campus grounds. Taurnil took four enormous strides across the room, falling to his knees by her bedside, and engulfed her in an enormous hug before she could even fully register what was happening. As she realised whose arms it was that held her, she slowly lifted her own, and slid them around his back.

“Thank heavens you’re alive, you big bear,” Lydia said softly, kissing him gently on the cheek.

“Are you okay?” Taurnil asked solicitously.

“I was stupid,” she said. “I took on one of those demons by myself, and it cornered me. It was awful,” she said, her eyes growing troubled as she thought back on the experience. “But some magicians saved me,” she said, “and as far as I understand, I’ll be fine with a bit of rest.”

“Which is exactly what you’re going to get,” Emea said, with mock sternness, from the doorway. “Come on, Taurnil,” she said. “Lydia needs to sleep, and not even you are allowed to get in the way of that.”

Taurnil looked back at Lydia, his eyes locked onto hers as she smiled gently. “You’d better go, or we’ll both get into trouble,” she said. “I’ll be fine now, knowing that you’re okay.” Taurnil looked like he wouldn’t leave her for all the world.

“Go on, Taurn,” Lydia said. “We’ll have plenty of time later.”

Taurnil stood slowly, bending to give Lydia a soft kiss before walking out with Emea and Gaspi. Taurnil cleared his throat. “Sorry I was rude before, Emmy,” he said. “It’s just…”

“Don’t be sorry, Taurn,” Emea said, slipping her small hand into the crook of his arm. “You never have to apologise for loving my friend.”

Taurnil smiled, saying nothing more, as the three friends headed back out into the entranceway. Emea sent Gaspi and Taurnil off to get some rest, but she would check to see if anyone else needed her before she left. She wasn’t going to leave the infirmary until the last patient had been healed.

Chapter 36

The next couple of weeks passed slowly for Gaspi and his friends. The city was reeling in shock after the attack, and despite the tireless work of the Healers, many guardsmen had been killed by the Wargs. Two magicians had also been killed, drained of all life by the demons, and signs of destruction were evident throughout the city and the campus. People spoke in quiet voices, relieved to be alive, but not wanting to disturb the mourning of those who had lost loved ones. Even as the remaining guards and civilian volunteers brought order back to the damaged parts of the city and campus, and things began to appear as they had done before the battle, the smashed gateway into the college still spoke eloquently of the events that had brought the great city to a standstill. Its tumbled stones no longer glowed gently with protective magic, but lay strewn across the ground, and no slender arch of rock gracefully spanned the entrance to the College of Collective Magicks.

All classes had been stopped, and Gaspi and his friends spent time talking in the Traveller’s Rest or hanging out in the barracks, reliving the dreadful night they’d somehow made it through alive, feeling increasingly grateful that none of them had been killed. A quiet Feast-Day afternoon found the four friends talking quietly in the Rest, when a messenger arrived from Hephistole, summoning Gaspi to his office.

“Just me?” Gaspi asked.

“That’s all he said,” the white-robed messenger said, with a shrug.

Gaspi hadn’t been back to the office since the battle, and found himself unaccountably nervous. “Tell Jonn where I am when he gets here?” he said to Taurnil.

“Sure, Gasp,” Taurnil said. “See you later.”

Gaspi kissed Emea, and left his friends in the tavern. On arriving at the tower, the receptionist was expecting him, and waved him straight over to the transporter. When the vibration of the transporter wore off, Gaspi found himself facing Hephistole and Voltan. The Chancellor seemed to be recovered fully from his encounter with the Warg. He lounged in one of the deep chairs near his desk, resplendent in a maroon brocaded gown. Voltan was dressed all in black and sat opposite Hephistole, sipping a cup of fragrant tea.

“Ah, Gaspi,” Hephistole said with a warm smile, not rising from his chair. “So good of you to join us.”

He indicated that Gaspi should take the third of a trio of chairs ranged around a low circular table, and poured a stream of steaming tea into a fine porcelain cup as Gaspi sat down. Gaspi lifted the cup to his mouth. The steam smelled of autumn leaves and woodsmoke, filling Gaspi with a deep sense of comfort and peace as he breathed it in.

“A good tea for flagging spirits,” Hephistole said, with a wink. Gaspi smiled, and took a sip of the golden brew, letting its fragrant warmth slide over his tongue and down his throat. A restful type of tingling sensation flowed out languidly through his body, spreading down his limbs and to the very tips of his fingers and toes.  Gaspi let out a deep sigh of satisfaction. He loved coming to Hephistole’s office.