Spell Fade (23 page)

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Authors: J. Daniel Layfield

BOOK: Spell Fade
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“That’s why I’m here.” They all looked at Logan, who seemed not to realize he had spoken aloud. That is, until he noticed everyone staring at him. He was surprised, but quickly recovered. “For Alain to use dragon magic,” he explained, “would have required dragon parts.”

“And you’ll be able to find them,” Aliet finished. “Do you think that’s what you feel pulling you now?”

“Maybe,” Logan answered, looking into the fire. It was perhaps the first time Dartan had seen him unsure of himself. Logan shook his head slightly and met their eyes again. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Remember, I’ve never come across any dragon remains to know for certain.”

“But, these parts,” Dartan pressed, “they would be important, right?”

Logan began nodding even before he spoke. “Yes, definitely. If they were used to bind the spell, then they could be used to dissolve it as well.”

Alain’s warning rang through Dartan’s head. “The ruler of the Northern Kingdom,” he said. “Would he be capable of such magic?”

“I would put nothing past Jarel,” Marcus spat. “He would align with the devil himself for a chance to rule Pavlora.”

How much of Pavlora would be left to reign over? “We cannot allow his men to get their hands on whatever awaits us in that pass,” Dartan proclaimed.

“Then I suggest,” Marcus said, “we all get some sleep, and start early in the morning. I have seen no sign of the Northern mercenaries, and that makes me nervous.”

Logan unsure and Marcus nervous – Dartan felt sick. Sleep did not come quickly or easily, despite the weariness enveloping his entire body. Even after sleep finally claimed his body, his mind refused to rest. It produced an endless stream of frustrating dreams, each one with him trying desperately to catch the attention of an oblivious Alain. Between them was always some insurmountable obstacle – a chasm, an ocean, a raging storm – and each time he would awaken with outstretched arms and an ache in his throat.

By sunrise Dartan felt even more exhausted than when he had lain down. At least I’m not drenched in freezing water though, he thought as he eyed a serenely sleeping Logan.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-three

 

Rumble. Rumble.

At least he wasn’t the only one hungry, thought Dartan. How long had it been since he had eaten? Or even stopped to rest?

As soon as the mountains were visible through the morning mist, he began to feel their pull again. And he wasn’t the only one. He had caught Logan staring and drifting towards the now nearer peaks, only to stop and realize he wasn’t finished packing.

Once they were actually on their way, things only got worse. The transition from forest to sloping mountainside was not even a memory in Dartan’s head. The only thing he could vaguely recall was a stop to put on warmer clothes when they began to encounter snow. It was less than a memory though, and more of just a feeling. There was agitation at being forced to stop, which only relented when he was allowed to move forward again. It was a wonder Marcus and Aliet were still travelling with him and Logan.

Rumble! Rumble!

Louder this time, and definitely from in front of him. Must be Logan. It was madness to continue on at this pace. He called out to Logan, “Why don’t we stop for a minute to rest and eat? It will do us no good to reach the pass and die of exhaustion.”

“We’ve all heard your stomach,” Logan called back. “Just tighten your belt another notch. We’re too close to stop now.”

“Are you so delirious as to not even recognize the grumbling protests of your own empty stomach?” Dartan asked.

Logan stopped, confusion on his face. “That wasn’t me.”

Before anyone else could speak the rumble came again, even louder. More concerning though, was this time he could feel it in his feet. Logan’s eyes widened as he looked down at his feet, hidden in the shin deep snow, then looked back up at the mountain. A sharp crack rang through the air, followed by a steady, deep rumble, growing louder by the second. Small rocks tumbled past them, while the snow shifted and moved like a river around them. Logan turned and shouted what they already knew. Avalanche.

They were dead. It was a simple fact, and no way Dartan could see to avoid it. They were in the open with a wall of snow, ice, and rock barreling towards them at a speed he could not even imagine being able to outrun. They had absolutely no where to go or hide. Nothing could save them … nothing except, he was a wizard.

Dartan had absolutely no idea from where the thought had come. In fact, he had believed his mind capable of processing nothing beyond the white death imminently approaching. Yet, somewhere deep and warm, part of his brain not completely frozen in fear, had offered him this simple solution. You are a wizard. Luckily, self-doubt was too preoccupied with ‘you’re going to die, you’re going to die’ to be able to chime in with ‘technically you’re only an apprentice’.

With that thought, everything seemed to slow to a crawl around him. He could hear Aliet screaming his name from beside him, and saw her reaching out for him. Above him, Logan was running, headed fruitlessly for a distant patch of trees. Beyond Logan stood Marcus. He had planted one knee on the ground and braced his shoulder behind his heavy pack. Mere meters from Marcus, crashing towards them all with still significant speed even in his altered state of perception, the wall of snow moved, oblivious to them all.

This was the hard part. How exactly does one just stop a force of nature? Dartan reached out and touched it with his mind. His knees threatened to buckle under the crushing weight and swirling chaos that was the avalanche, throwing his thoughts into a frantic panic. Melt it? Part it? Lift it? Lift them?

Slowed down sense of time or not, he was nearly out of it, and had only come to the conclusion that being a wizard wasn’t much help to them at all. His mind eased, resigned to its fate, and then he looked to Marcus again. Marcus, calmly awaiting his own fate, futilely braced behind a hopelessly flimsy pack he had made into a shield. There was something else there his mind felt, under the physical, Dartan was struck by a strength pouring out of Marcus. It formed almost another layer around him. A barrier. Another shield. That was it! He needed a shield.

Dartan dared not touch the crippling force bearing down on them. Instead he focused his will on building a wall. He built it tall, fast, and, thanks in part to Marcus, strong. He held his breath as the snow hit. Hard. His body slid backwards nearly a meter, but the wall held.

Marcus dusted a stray spray of snow out of his hair and stood to face the solid block of snow in the shadow of which he now was. He glanced back at Dartan and gave him a small nod. Good job. Dartan replied with an almost imperceptible nod of his own. It was nothing.

“Now that,” Logan said, moving back towards the group, “is much more impressive than throwing a few rocks around.” He stopped beside Dartan and stared up at the frozen wall. “Never doubted you for a second,” he said, punctuated with a slap on the back. The mass of snow shuddered in response while Dartan managed a weak smile.

“Sure you didn’t.” Aliet grabbed Logan and dragged him away from Dartan’s side. “That was the first time I’ve seen you take even a single step away from the pass since we left Kinsley.” Logan started to argue the point, but she didn’t give him the chance. “Now go stand by Marcus, and try not to touch anything.” He put his head down and mumbled the entire way, but he went. Satisfied he was out of the way, she turned back to Dartan. “Are you alright?” she asked.

What had he expected it to feel like, exactly? Or had he even considered it at all? Certainly he had imagined nothing like this. The physical demand was much like flexing a muscle, deceptively easy at first, but impossible to maintain. The physical complaints, however, were a mere whisper under the mental demand of maintaining the spell. What he wouldn’t give for a spellstone, he thought as he slowly realized Aliet was staring at him. She had asked him a question. What was it? It sluggishly rose in his memory.

“Fine,” he managed to answer, even though he didn’t believe it himself. She squinted, and stared hard at him for a moment before shaking her head and turning back to Logan and Marcus.

“We need to move,” Marcus insisted. “Now.” While Aliet could see the lie in Dartan’s eyes, Marcus had seen the snow beginning to shift, and the sweat forming on Dartan’s brow. Logan, however, couldn’t see beyond what was right in front of him.

“And where exactly would you suggest we go?” Logan asked, indicating the snow wall blocking their path.

“Through,” Marcus answered, pointing to a small crack that reached to the top of the wall. To emphasize his point, he began walking towards it without another word.

“After you,” Logan motioned to Aliet, who simply rolled her eyes and followed Marcus. Dartan stayed still, wondering how much longer he would be able to hold out.

It was a bit of a squeeze, especially with their packs, but Marcus wasted no time in climbing up the crack and onto the snow above. Aliet followed, but had to have help from Marcus to reach the top. Logan was next. Marcus reached down to give him a hand, but Logan wasn’t there. Instead, he had stopped less than half a meter from the frozen wall.

“That is just the weirdest thing,” Logan said, extending his arm out in front of him. “How is it that it stopped an avalanche, and yet my hand passes right through?” He moved his hand slowly back and forth across the invisible boundary. Aliet, confused about what was taking so long, now poked her head over the edge of the wall and stared down at Logan. “Wouldn’t you think you could feel, well, something?” he asked of no one in particular. He held his hand palm out and slowly inched it towards the wall. He stopped it just before it contacted the snow, and said, “Right there! This should be where it is, but I don’t feel anything.” He then began rapidly thrusting his hand back and forth, pushing against the snow.

“Logan!” Aliet and Dartan yelled at the same time. He quickly pulled his arm back against his chest and looked guiltily from one to the other.

“Enough,” Aliet said. “What part of ‘move now’ did you not understand?”

“Sorry,” he said to Aliet, then turned to Dartan. “I just … Damn.”

“It’s fine,” Dartan said through clenched teeth. “There’s still time. Just hurry.”

“No,” Logan said, pointing down the mountain. “We’re out of time.”

Below them a dozen figures wearing the colors of the Northern Kingdom were moving towards them. Fast.

“Go,” Dartan commanded. Logan needed no further encouragement, leaping for Marcus’s still outstretched hand, he was pulled up to the top of the wall.

“Your turn,” he called back as he and Marcus both held out an arm. A loud whistle pierced the air, and an arrow planted itself into the snow just below their hands.

“Don’t move!” a stern voice warned from below.

Dartan looked up at the three faces peering over the snow bank. Marcus and Logan had not moved their arms, and Aliet’s eyes seemed to be working her own magic on him, willing him to move. He shook his head.

“I mean it,” the voice called again, closer this time. “My next arrow will find its mark.”

“Dartan, please,” Aliet pleaded.

He stopped her. “There’s no way this ends well.”

“What do you mean? I don’t under-”

“They will hit one of us and I will lose the focus I need to keep the avalanche at bay.” The wall shifted a bit, and Dartan grunted under the strain of control. “You need to go now,” he said quietly, then lowered his head, waiting for the coming force. “Whatever is up there is more important than me.”

“Dartan, no,” Aliet tried again, although she knew he wasn’t listening.

“Run!” Dartan yelled, and the entire wall moved over half a meter. Two more arrows sailed through the air, landing on either side of Dartan.

“Don’t even think about running,” the same voice called up. From above him, Dartan could hear arguing.

“I’m not leaving him,” Aliet said. “Nothing on this mountain can be more important than he is.”

“We don’t have a choice, and it’s what he wants,” Logan argued.

“Go, now!” Dartan called up to them. He raised his head and caught Aliet’s eyes. Holding her gaze, he added softly, “Please.” When he saw the soft glisten of tears form in her eyes, and her head shaking no, he looked away, unsure he would be strong enough to deny her if she pleaded any more.

“Dartan!” she screamed, her voice echoing down the mountain, and the wall shifted further in response.

“We have to go now,” Logan said, grabbing one arm and motioning for Marcus to grab the other. Defeated, Aliet allowed herself to be dragged away. As he heard their footsteps fade, Dartan dropped to his knees, lowered his head to the snow, and waited. The valley entrance was just over one hundred meters away, through loose snow, and Aliet was most likely being forced to move. He just hoped there was enough time.

*
      
*
      
*

They weren’t going to have enough time. Marcus had no idea how long Dartan could hold back the snow, but he had a good idea how long it was going to take the Northern mercenaries to reach him. Once that happened, the fall would follow quickly. He knew the boy had a plan, but if they couldn’t reach the mouth of the pass he wasn’t sure they would live through it.

*
      
*
      
*

“I don’t know, he doesn’t look like much to me.” It was the same voice that had been calling out commands. “What do you men think?” His answer was a chorus of laughter.

“What’s the matter, boy?” another voice teased. “Couldn’t get over that little pile of snow?” More laughter as the men formed a circle around him. Their leader stepped right in front of him and stopped, his boots close enough to touch. Dartan remained still, head to the ground.

“Guess your friends didn’t think much of you either,” he taunted. “Didn’t take much convincing to send them running. Don’t worry though, we’ll catch up to them soon enough.” His laugh was not echoed by the rest of his men this time. Instead he heard an uneasy mumble near the snow bank. The feet in front of Dartan shifted uneasily, then moved away, closer to the wall. “What’s the problem?” the voice asked gruffly.

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