Red Magic (40 page)

Galvin decided he would do nothing to prevent the miners from finishing off the wizard. The druid had intended to kill him anyway.

The nearest slave raised his pick higher, and in a quick, fluid motion brought it down upon the prone body of the Red Wizard. But the pick stopped with a loud thunk inches from the wizard’s back, as if it had hit something hard yet unseen.

Galvin watched the miner’s mouth drop open in shock as Maligor quickly rolled away from him. In one movement, the Red Wizard leapt to his feet and cast out his hand, sending a bolt of energy into the slave’s chest. The slave was hurled backward, a gaping hole burned in the center of his body.

Then the wizard turned his attention to the other slaves.

“Fools!” he shouted. “You all will die for this!” Maligor began twirling his fingers about in the air, and the slaves dropped their picks and whirled to run from the room.

Galvin’s path with the darkenbeasts had taken him behind the Red Wizard, who was oblivious to any threat from that direction. Separating from the mass of darkenbeasts, he dove toward the wizard. He slammed his extended claws into Maligor’s back, and the Red Wizard fell forward again. The druid continued his flight, rejoining the rest of the darkenbeasts.

The maneuver had bought the slaves time to flee from the chamber, which further infuriated the wizard.

This time when Maligor rose, his black eyes seemed to burn, and a trickle of blood flowed from a broken nose. Galvin decided to press his attack.

Through his pain, Maligor spotted a single darkenbeast heading his way, claws outstretched. The Red Wizard sensed the creature was not one of his own, and he marshaled his powers and pointed a finger at the beast that dared to assault him.

“Die!” the Red Wizard shouted.

Simultaneously Galvin felt a tearing in his gut, an intense torment that rivaled anything he had previously suffered. His darkenbeast form shrieked in response, and he fought to stay conscious and on course. Part of him rebelled and begged him to flee, but the human in him forced himself to concentrate on the Red Wizard and on all the pain the madman had inflicted upon the animals in the tower back in Amruthar.

Maligor’s eyes bore into the darkenbeast’s, and he raised his hands again, chanting words the druid could not discern. Red darts flashed from his fingers and found their mark in the darkenbeast’s breast.

The darkenbeast floundered, struggling to stay aloft under the new wave of misery that shot through his body. Then he dove away from the wizard, losing himself in the cloud of darkenbeasts and hoping the wizard’s magic could not reach him there.

Galvin realized he couldn’t physically best Maligor; the Red Wizard was far too powerful. A bolt of lightning from the wizard’s hand punctuated that sentiment and nearly bisected the druid, missing him by inches and sending a shower of rocks onto the floor below. However, it gave Galvin an idea.

The druid concentrated, focusing on the rocks about the Red Wizard and draining himself to the point of exhaustion. The elder druids who had schooled him a decade ago had taught Galvin how to manipulate the earth in various ways, ways Galvin was loath to use. This was a necessary act, however, and might be the only way to defeat Maligor, he thought.

Galvin’s mind sang to the rocks, to the mine, in the words of the first druids. The music poured from him, echoing off the veins and filling the chamber, rising above the beating of the darkenbeasts’ wings into a whining, deafening pitch. The dazzling, shrill strain swelled until it became overpowering.

The music continued to pour from the druid, the stone, the very earth. Maligor thrust his hands over his ears, trying to shut out the sound so he could concentrate. But the music was too strong.

As the druid’s song became louder still, the cavern wavered and began to groan. The ground quaked under the pressure of the mountain above, which had begun to tremble menacingly.

Maligor screamed as rocks began to fall from the ceiling, smashing into his darkenbeasts and narrowly missing him. The Red Wizard concentrated on his creatures, determined that they should slay the imposter darkenbeast. He touched their sorcerous minds, then recoiled as the song increased in volume again.

What began as a soft humming sound that Brenna and Wynter had difficulty discerning had risen to a deafening cacophony as it was joined by the rumbling of the mountain itself. They stood where Galvin had left them, fighting to stand as the very floor shook beneath their feet and small pieces of the ceiling began to break away.

Wynter placed a hand on Brenna’s shoulder and nodded down the tunnel, in the direction from which they had come.

“But what about Galvin?” she shouted, trying to be heard above the tumult in the cavern.

“He told us to get out. We should have listened!” Wynter shouted. “Besides, he can fly out of here! I can’t!”

The centaur turned and trotted as fast as he could down the narrow shaft. Brenna cast a worried glance behind her, then bolted after Wynter.

Inside the deep chamber, the darkenbeasts screamed as chunks of the ceiling continued to pelt them, killing many and injuring others so they could no longer fly.

The druid had so far managed somehow to avoid the stones. Now he sang once more through his darkenbeast mouth, and the rumbling grew in intensity.

Maligor fell to his knees, unable to stand in the wildly trembling cavern. The Red Wizard screamed as the rocks continued to pummel him, crushing his bones, burying him and making his body a permanent inhabitant of the mine he so wanted to control.

Yet Galvin’s magic had been more effective than he had planned. Although he had ceased his song, the rumbling continued. The weight of the mountain had pushed down on the weakening chambers and was causing them to collapse.

Still in pain from the red shards Maligor had hurled at his chest, Galvin began flapping his wings madly, flying from the chamber and swerving crazily to avoid the falling chunks of ceiling.

Faster and faster the druid flew, through one shaking, twisting shaft after another, until he feared he was hopelessly lost. Soaring into a small chamber filled with buckets of ore, the druid spotted picks lying at odd angles and hoped the miners who had been here had fled when the quake began. Three tunnels led from this chamber. The druid chose the center one, praying it led toward the outside.

The mountain groaned again, and the tunnels began to collapse. Behind the druid, massive chunks of rock crashed from the ceiling as the timbers buckled. His darkenbeast chest felt tight and his breathing quickened, fear overwhelming him. Still his wings beat furiously, carrying him just ahead of the destruction.

At last Galvin shot into a large chamber filled with blue light. The floor was littered with the bodies of Szass Tam’s undead. Continuing his panicked flight, he entered the tunnel where he had left Wynter and Brenna, but he saw no trace of them.

A deafening crash sounded behind him, and he didn’t have to look back to know it signaled the collapse of the large chamber. He continued his course for what seemed an eternity. He spotted miners and guards running ahead of him.

Galvin’s wings beat faster, spurred on by the crashing sounds of rock behind and below him. He watched the shaft shudder and saw torches fall from their sconces along the rock wall. Support beams buckled, and he felt himself being pelted by chunks of rock that dropped from the ceiling.

Faster he flew, staying just behind the slave miners as he heard the beams and rock groan behind him under the weight of the mountain. A rush of stale air passed him, evidence that the tunnel was collapsing behind him, and he heard the thunderous roar of crashing rocks as he spied light ahead—the entrance to the mine!

Flapping his wings still harder, the druid propelled himself from the main shaft and out onto the plateau beyond. Galvin collapsed on the rumbling plateau, gasping for air and willing his darkenbeast form to vanish. The leathery skin burned horribly under the sun’s light as the hide receded, revealing scratched and bruised human skin. Brenna scrambled over to him, fighting her way through the mass of slaves and tearing her knees on the rock. Throwing her arms around his neck, she called to Wynter.

“It’s Galvin! He made it!” She began to sob uncontrollably with the release of pent-up emotions.

The centaur moved through the crowd and bent forward, extending his hand. Galvin took it and let himself be helped to his feet.

“Let’s get out of here,” the druid said, putting his arm about Brenna’s shoulders. Starting down the still-trembling mountain, they threaded their way through the confused miners. “Let’s get out of here before Szass Tam notices that we finished his army, too, and decides to use us to start a new one.”

Three days later, the heroes eased themselves down the steep bank of the First Escarpment, a task that seemed surprisingly simple now, even for Wynter, after their ordeals in Thay.

Although Aglarond was not as verdant as Thay, the trio thought they had never seen anything more beautiful than the untainted land that spread out before them. They threaded their way along the River Umber, stopping only to bathe in the cool water and wash away the grime and memories of the struggle in the mine.

Galvin knew Thay’s economy would suffer because of the mine’s collapse, and that the Red Wizards would be furious. But he also knew the mines would eventually reopen. The wizards had more than enough magic to repair them.

“What will you do now?” Brenna asked as they moved deeper into Aglarond, toward the capital city.

The centaur shrugged and ran a callused hand across the top of his head. “I’m not sure. Rest for a few days, certainly, then report to the Harper council about what went on. After that, I don’t know.”

Brenna glanced hopefully up at Galvin. “And you?”

The druid stared ahead, watching a doe drink deeply from the river. The animal tilted its head in their direction, then bounded away. “Go home,” he said simply.

“You could make a home for yourself back in Glarondar where I live,” she said, smiling up at him.

Galvin returned her smile, then shook his head.

The trio broke through the line of willows and birches and emerged into a plain of wild wheat—the same plain Brenna had had so much difficulty traversing not so many days ago.

“You’ve proved you can handle the wilderness,” the druid said, glancing at Brenna. “You could come home with me instead.” He gestured north, toward the forest.

“The water and food are free, Brenna. No one takes advantage of you.” Galvin looked wistfully toward the forest.

The enchantress followed his gaze, then stared toward the west, toward Glarondar, the tallest buildings of which she could just make out in the distance.

“I—I can’t,” she stammered.

“I know.”

The druid realized that each of them had grown to accept the other’s lifestyle and respect it. But living in that lifestyle would be too drastic a change.

“Wynter will take you home,” he said simply.

“I’ll miss you,” she said softly, her eyes moist.

Galvin pulled her gently to him, wrapping his arms about her. “I won’t be so far away. I’ll come when you need the Harpers’ help again.” He kissed her and she returned his embrace, then rested her chin on his shoulder and gazed toward the First Escarpment, tears running down her cheeks. They were too far away to see the cliffs, but for a moment, she imagined she saw the faint image of Szass Tam hanging above the cliffs, his angry eyes hot, glowing pinpoints of light. She blinked and the image vanished.

In the distance, she spied a rain cloud, heralding another storm over Thay.