season avatars 01 - seasons beginnings (14 page)

could take care of her in ways his golden sundials couldn’t.

“So...the Magic Institute is completely gone?” Bella asked when he

finished. “No one else is left?”

“A few wandering magicians like myself, but I doubt they will want

to start another school.” Kron wondered for a moment how young ma-

gicians would learn their craft now. But they had more immediate

concerns. “There’s nothing else I can do at the Magic Institute. The next

thing for me to do is visit Salth’s old house and see what I can learn

there.”

Bella’s eyes widened. “But if she knows you’re there, she’ll try to

destroy you!”

Kron fought back a yawn. “Then I think today I’ll skip going to the

marketplace and prepare artifacts that will hide me from her. I’ll prepare

more golden sundials and leave them with you to make sure you’re

safe.”

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Bella nodded. “But eat something first before you head to your

workshop.” She set the flatcakes near the fireplace to warm them up.

“You need strength.”

Kron had no appetite, but he washed down the flatcakes with beer,

then set to work. Magically manipulating the gold into the right shape,

then enchanting each sundial, was difficult work, and focusing on his

task allowed him to forget about Pagli and the Magic Institute for a

while. By the time he was finished, the sun had set. Bella had been busy

preparing fresh bread and fish stew, but she’d managed to obtain figs

and dates—his favorite fruits—for dessert. The gesture made him smile

for the first time that day, and he lingered by Bella’s side as they stared

at the fire for a while, not speaking.

When the evening had turned to night, he said, “I should go,” with-

out moving.

“Yes, you should,” she said, her voice so low he had trouble hearing

her.

They could have remained in those positions for the rest of the night.

However, an owl hooted repeatedly outside of the window, making

Bella smile as if she understood what the bird was saying.

She rose, came over to him, and put her hand on his shoulder. “Don’t

worry, Kron, I’ll be fine.” She bit her lip. “You’re the one putting your-

self at risk. I don’t know how I’ll sleep tonight.”

He stroked her cheek. “Try, for me. It’ll make my task easier.”

“And when you return—”

Yes, better to think about the joy of reunion, not the fear of parting.

“Yes, when I return.” He kissed her, making it a promise of what they

would share in the morning.

Bella embraced him and returned the kiss with enthusiasm, but then

she tore herself away. “If you’re leaving, you’d better do it, before I

wrap myself around you and refuse to let you go.”

“With such a sweet chain, why would I ever want to break free?”

Why did she make it so hard to leave her? If they kept this up, he’d let

the rest of the world outside their house rot as long as the two of them

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9 9

could remain suspended in their own private bubble of time. But Salth

would never permit that.

With a sigh, Kron tore himself away from Bella long enough to pre-

sent her with one of the golden sundials he’d created that afternoon. “I

know your patron goddess is watching over you, but I’d feel better

knowing you have this too.”

She wrapped her fingers around it. “I’ll keep it under my pillow. Or

does it need light to work?”

“Not for protection.”

“Then go, and may the Four Gods and Goddesses protect you too.”

She sketched a compass rose in the air in front of Kron before retreating

to the corner of the house where their bed was curtained off for privacy.

Kron let himself out of the house. Owls perched on the roof, watch-

ing him with round eyes. A pair of wild cats, larger than tamed ones but

smaller than wolves, slunk around the corner. While Kron wasn’t sure

how useful animals would be against another undead magician like

Pagli, they did prove the Goddess of Fall was watching, ready to inter-

vene if necessary. Kron hoped that with Pagli’s body burned, Salth

would be unable to use him against Bella.

Kron slipped into his workshop and stuffed his pouch with golden

sundials and as many raw materials and defensive items as he could

carry. He renewed the protective spells on his clothing. An idea came

to him, and he enchanted the workshop to hold any magical creature

without letting it escape. That way, he could create his portal in the

workshop and keep innocent Vistichians from walking through it—or

any of Salth’s warped constructs from wreaking havoc on the city.

Kron brought branches inside to create a portal, so all he needed was

the right image. He recalled the river as it had been, with lush grasses

and flowers, but the portal didn’t open. Then he remembered the differ-

ence in seasons. He needed to use permanent landmarks, not ones that

changed over time. Salth probably hadn’t been any kinder to her land

than she had been to the Magic Institute.

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This time, when he focused on the curves and bulges of the

riverbank, the portal formed. The land on the other side looked dead.

All the plants were gray-brown and wilted, and no animals stirred.

Salth’s home was farther north than Vistichia, so it made sense that the

fall season would be more advanced there. But the area beyond the por-

tal seemed too still, as if a trap lay ahead just out of sight.

I wonder what Sal-thaath would think to see his playground devas-

tated like this. Knowing him, he might think it doesn’t matter. If he

didn’t care about people who lacked magic, why would he worry about

a barren land?

Kron shaped a handful of small rocks into flying arrowheads. They

wouldn’t do more than distract Salth, but that might be enough. Magic-

finder in one hand and flying arrowheads in the other, Kron passed

through the portal.

The land here wasn’t as dead as it had initially appeared to be, but

the area was certainly dying. All of the plants, from the grass and rushes

to the trees, had turned yellow-green and smelled like spoiled grain.

Some trees sported leaves of every size, from bud to full-grown to red

or brown, ready to fall. Kron wondered what the gods who named them-

selves after seasons would think of that. The air was chill and too silent.

Why was the area so dead? The magical battle between Salth and Kron

couldn’t have caused this—their magic had been too focused and con-

tained to have side effects like these. Perhaps the magic that had fallen

from the sky had corrupted the land, though that didn’t fit with the way

it had felt during Kron’s brief encounter. Kron had seen nothing like

this near Vistichia, though he wasn’t certain how much of the star magic

had appeared there.

How much magic was left in this spot? Kron brought out his magic-

finder to check. It still glowed brightly, and the glow increased as he

swung it toward Salth’s former house. Had she put new wards up since

the last visit? How close could he get without risking his life? It was

hard to trust in his own artifacts in the presence of so much devastation.

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What he needed was either a way to disguise himself or a way to

extend his own senses. His clothes already bore enough protective en-

hancements; he didn’t want to burden them with another spell. That left

some sort of magical spying device, such as the far-seer Salth had. Kron

grinned. Since he’d created it, he might be able to reaffirm the magic

he’d laid into the device and make it work for him. The only thing he

needed was something to link to the far-seer, something that could show

him what it saw. But he didn’t have a lens or anything made of the same

material as the far-seer.

Kron ventured closer to Salth’s house, pausing every few steps to

look around for materials or any sign of life. After the fourth or fifth

stop, he heard a faint whirring sound coming toward him? A bird? No,

a dark dot flew toward him at rapid speed. It was bigger than he remem-

bered, and now blood red, but Kron still recognized it.

Sal-thaath’s ball. I thought it was destroyed. Where did it come

from, and why is it moving?

The ball bore a human face, complete with heavy eyebrows and a

thick, bent nose. The features weren’t drawn on but seemed to emanate

from inside the ball. The eyes didn’t blink, but the mouth opened and

wailed, “Kroooonnn! Leeeeave this plaaaace!” Then, so quietly Kron

almost couldn’t hear it, “Help me. Help me, please.”

That’s definitely not my enchantment.
Kron stared more closely at

it. The face seemed real enough, and very lifelike.
Is someone’s spirit

trapped in there?
How did Salth manage that—and why?

The pleading expression in the ball spirit’s eyes vanished, and he

bared his teeth and growled at Kron like a dog. Even if the soul inside

needed help, perhaps it was being compelled by Salth to attack him.

Kron pulled on his tunic, and the smooth fabric became stiff as ar-

mor. He flicked a couple of his arrowheads at the flying ball. The

arrowheads scattered, then dove at the ball from different directions.

But the ball swallowed them both and continued its flight toward Kron.

Since Kron didn’t have another weapon at hand, he attempted to re-

move the magic he’d woven into the ball. Maybe that would free the

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spirit. His original spell came apart easily—perhaps too easily—but the

ball didn’t come apart. Still, Kron could rip artifacts into their tiniest

components if he had to. If only he could focus...

The ball clamped onto his arm like a leech. His enchanted clothing

saved him from being bitten, but the ball’s jaws chewed back and forth.

Even if they couldn’t pierce the cloth, his arm underneath was going to

be bruised later. Kron shook his arm, trying to dislodge the ball, while

he unhooked his pouch and dumped the contents out. Short pieces of

wood that could be grown into spears, copper nails that could be trans-

formed into daggers—weapons would be useful right now, but they

could backfire. Instead. Kron enlarged the pouch, then placed a spell of

attraction on it. The pouch opened wide and engulfed the ball, stopping

short of claiming Kron’s arm too. The ball ground its mouth against his

muscles, but between shaking his arm and the magic in his pouch, the

ball finally released him. The bag sealed itself but bounced as the ball

inside struggled to escape. Kron hastily reinforced the bag so it couldn’t

break, then pinned it down with the copper nails. Now he could disen-

chant or destroy the ball at his leisure, but he wasn’t sure that was still

a wise idea. What if that harmed the spirit inside, or what if the spirit

was still vicious? Perhaps he could find out.

“Spirit,” he asked. “Does Salth know I’m here? Did she send you

after me, or are you on patrol?”

After several heartbeats filled with snapping sounds and curses, the

ball replied, “Who is Salth?”

“She might be calling herself Time now.”

“I haven’t seen a woman, only a child.”

Kron’s blood froze. “A boy with six fingers?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, where is he now?”

“I don’t know.”

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This wasn’t helpful. Kron needed to find out what Salth was doing—

and if Sal-thaath really was alive. If this spirit wasn’t a helpful inform-

ant, then Kron should try something else, such as his original plan of

tapping into Salth’s far-seer from a distance.

“I’ll try to help you later,” he said to the spirit inside the ball. Kron

then plucked a few dry strands of grass and wove them into a rope. He

returned to the riverbank and scooped out a shallow hole with his hands,

then filled it, handful by handful, with water, the closest thing he could

find to glass out here. Finally, he laid the rope around the edge of the

hole, giving it a manmade element to bring both the hole and water un-

der his control. He touched the rope with his fingertips.
Show me the

view through the far-seer.

Nothing happened.

Kron pushed harder with his magic, but again nothing happened.

Even if Salth had knocked the far-seer out of position, he should be

seeing something. Either he hadn’t established a strong enough link to

the far-seer, or it no longer existed. Had it been damaged during his

final confrontation with Salth? Kron hadn’t paid attention at the time

and couldn’t trust his memory now. But perhaps there was a way he

could test his idea. Maybe instead of trying to connect directly with his

far-seer, he could use his hobbled-together seer to search for the far-

seer. That way, he could tell if it still existed. It might also give him

some clues about the state of Salth’s house—and Salth herself.