Spellscribed: Ascension (33 page)

Endrance nodded. “Yeah, that was a nice touch.” He said, grinning. “I hoped they would find it more impressive.”

“It’s going to make the next time this happens all the harder for your replacement down the line.” Bridget said with a smile. “Fjallar aren’t exactly easily found, you know?”

“No, I didn’t.” Endrance said.

“With the exception of your bird, we’ve only ever heard tell of them in the ancient times.” Bridget stated. “I didn’t think it could possibly have been one when you first called it, but I’m starting to see it now.”

“Gullin is pretty impressive, isn’t he?” Endrance asked, glancing up.

This is not even my full size.
Gullin boasted, soaring high above.

“Well, I’m exhausted.” Endrance lied, giving each one a squeeze. I’m going to finish what little work I’ve got here, and will catch some sleep when I’m done.”

“Oh, I’ll wait.” Selene said. “I don’t mind waiting.”

“But they’re going to close the bowls down any moment now. If you don’t hurry, you might not make it home.” Endrance reasoned.

“Then we’ll sleep in that house.” Bridget stated.

Endrance sighed. It wasn’t going to be easy slipping away from them.
“All right. Go ahead and get ready. I’ll join you two once I’m finished.”

Selene looked like she was about to protest, but her expression slipped from one of concern to a smile. “All right,” she said. “Don’t keep us waiting.”

Endrance smiled and nodded, watching the Draugnoa go into the house first. He wiped his face as soon as the door closed.

“Gods, what am I getting into?” he muttered. “If the wolfmen don’t kill me, the wives surely will when I return.”

You were the one who decided not to tell them.
Gullin reminded him.

I know.
The wizard replied.
Did you pick up the things I asked for from the house?

Yes, though you did not leave the window open very far.
The familiar complained.
I nearly lost a few feathers squeezing through.

Sorry.
Endrance replied.
Drop them here and I’ll get going.

May I suggest changing first? As much as I enjoy seeing you look like a living bonfire, I would surmise that it is not combat effective garb.
Gullin said, a hint of laughter in his mental voice.
I will also add that it has no pockets and can therefore not carry the things you asked for.

That’s part of what I asked you to bring in the sack.
Endrance retorted.

A large sack, full of some kind of heavy but soft material hit the ground right in front of him. Endrance nearly leapt back in surprise.
Whoa!
He exclaimed, looking up at the darkened sky. His familiar circled overhead.

Sorry.

No you’re not.

You are right. I hit exactly where I was aiming.
Gullin replied smugly.

Go rest. I’ll call you if I need support.
Endrance grumbled, digging through the sack. It had the change of clothes and the few small trinkets he’d crafted during his weeks since the battle with Kalenden. His tiger hide coat and gloves were inside as well.

You will. I will await your summons.
Gullin replied.

Endrance looked around. Seeing no one, he stripped off the ridiculous costume and shoved it in the sack. Even stripped bare, the warmth spell he had cast was keeping him comfortable. He slipped into his new clothes stealthily and pocketed his tools.

As Endrance finished dressing, Gnaeus melted out of the darkness of the shadow from the house.

“Good, you are ready.” He said quietly. “We should go now.”

“Yeah.” Endrance agreed. “Before the women find out where I’ve gone.”

Gnaeus chuffed in what could only be a lupine chuckle.
“Females.” He muttered as the mage swept past him.

Inside the house, Selene looked from the window to Bridget, who was pacing angrily behind her. “You’re right.” She said. “He is going somewhere.”

“Without Joven!” she exclaimed. “Or us!”

Selene tilted her head. “There’s a wolfman with him.”

Bridget rushed to the window. “A wolfman?” she exclaimed. Selene pushed her back. “Hey!”

“It’s one in armor.” She said. “It looks like one of the ones I talked to earlier.”

“What’s he doing with a wolfman?” Bridget demanded. Selene watched Endrance take off out of sight.

“He’s apparently going somewhere with them.” She replied, her frown deepening. “They’re moving towards the wall!”

“Oh hells no!” Bridget replied. “I’m getting my armor.”

Selene nodded. “We should go after him.”

Bridget led the way back into the main room where they’d left their bags of supplies, including Endrance’s change of clothes and their armor. His clothes were laid out on the table, as if he had just stepped out and was going to retrieve them. Bridget swept her arm across the table, knocking them to the floor.

The seed popped out of his pocket as it fell, bouncing across the wooden floor. Selene was distracted, untangling the knot on her clothes bag and didn’t notice. Bridget frowned, bending down to pick up the object. It wriggled once in her grasp, and she dropped it again in fright.

The seed remained still and she reached back down and picked it up. It wriggled slightly, but didn’t open or dig it’s three little spines into her skin.  She stared at it, puzzled. Endrance had said that it was supposed to help him get her arm back. But how? It was just a dumb seed. The scars on her shoulder ached, and she absently reached to rub it. The seed in her fingers jumped and wriggled as her hand neared the destroyed shoulder, She jerked her hand back.

“What are you doing?” Selene asked.

Bridget slowly and experimentally moved the seed closer to her destroyed shoulder. The closer it got, the more energetic the seed became. It seemed almost eager. She looked at the spines on the seed, at her shoulder, and then up at Selene.

“I think I know what you’re thinking, Bridget...” Selene
said, her eyes wide. “I know you want your arm back, but shouldn’t we wait- No don’t do that!”

Bridget forcefully jammed the spiny end of the seed right into the middle of the starburst scar of her shoulder. A trickle of blood dribbled out, but nothing happened at first.

“Why would you do that?” Selene exclaimed. “What is wrong with you?”

“He didn’t come to us for help.” Bridget replied. “Why? We’re all he has! He has been taking so long trying to help us because he wants to protect us!”

The sting of the needles in her arm faded, replaced by an itching, warm sensation. The seed cracked in half lengthwise. From it tiny tendrils of green vine crept out and felt around her damaged shoulder.

“Take it out, quickly!” Selene shouted. “We don’t know what it will do!”

“Of course I know what it does!” Bridget replied. “You saw him send a message to a friend asking how to restore a lost limb, right?”

Selene nodded, staring as the tendrils dug into Bridget’s skin, fattening as they grew. She could see Bridget’s face pale and her eyes dilate in pain, but she kept talking.

“Well, I saw his friend send him this as a response. He was sending him a way to fix my arm!”

“But what if-” Selene began, but her words quickly became a shriek as the seed’s shell burst and green tendrils exploded outwards in volumes far beyond what could have fit into its mass. Bridget screamed hoarsely and collapsed to the floor as the vines twisted and entwined, forming thick knots of greenish muscle that turned light brown from the shoulder on down. The tendrils were weaving the structure of an arm with amazing speed. Around the implantation site, the outer layer of the plant matter took on a wooden texture, growing a thin layer of what looked like waxy bark that blended seamlessly to her flesh and flowed down the still forming tendrils.

In seconds, Bridget’s right side had a wooden twin to the one it lost. Selene stared at the arm in disbelief. Bridget blinked her eyes several times, shaking her head. “Whoa.” She muttered. “Dizzy.”

“It’s… an arm!” Selene managed to say.

Bridget tried to will it to move. It did, though the action caused her shoulder to hurt fiercely. She reached out and touched both palms together. The arm felt smooth, like wood given a thin coating of wax and polished. Most amazingly, she could feel her normal hand through the new one.

She flexed the arm; and though it hurt, it seemed fully operational.

“Yep.” She said, “It’s an arm. Now I can help him again.”

Bridget tried to rise, but immediately slipped back to the floor, too dizzy to think clearly much less get her balance.
“Maybe not.” She muttered.

It felt like she had suddenly lost a lot of blood. It made sense. She had to provide blood for a whole new limb, where would the blood have come from otherwise?

“You need to rest.” Selene said. “I’m going to try to find out what’s going on. We’ll go after him once I get back.”

“Hurry.”
Bridget said, crawling over to a couch and sliding onto it. “I am going to punch him in the face for lying to us.”

* * *

Endrance adjusted the straps on his pack and wished he had time to sleep more. He was sore from the days of fighting and
surviving, and the dance had taken a lot out of him. Physically, he was already fatigued; and mentally he was starting to feel the weight of the hours. He wore his blood tiger hide coat over his darkest clothing. He adjusted the cuffs of his coat so they covered his bracers completely and pulled the hood up.

“All right.”
He said aloud. “I’m ready.”

The wolfmen looked at him and moved towards the edge of the wall. While the army was keeping an eye on the forces, mostly all of the undead had been piling up at the gates. This left the
southeastern area of the wall a mile away almost completely enemy free. They were crouched on the crenellations of the forty foot drop, searching for possible enemies below.

The wolfmen were practically invisible in the dark. Their naturally dark gray-toned fur blended well with their gear and into the stone and snow. Endrance’s coat was predominantly off-white, but with reddish tinges to the fur and had black striping. It could be seen as pinkish in the right light, and unfortunately the stars and moons were quite visible in the sky, making being unseen more difficult.

Endrance watched as the first few wolfmen tied off ropes and prepared to descend. Gnaeus approached him, hunkered down and moving on all fours in a very canine fashion.

“Mage,” he began. “We are going to take the lead, but you are not very hard to miss.”

Endrance smiled at him. “I would not have survived this far if I didn’t know how to not be seen.”

“We can’t shed any light.” Gnaeus reminded him. “We will move
slow enough for you to follow in the dark.”

Endrance again smiled. “I can handle that too.”

The Alpha looked impressed. “Hmm.” He growled. “Then I have hope for this attack. Your turn down the wall then.”

Endrance crept to the edge, got a good grip, and slid down. Unlike many times he’d gone out, he had his gloves on to keep his fingers covered and warm while they were creeping around in the dark. If Gnaeus had caught the rough symbol on the back of his right glove, he hadn’t said anything. Endrance had seen that every one of his wolves had a similar scar across the back of their right hands; it was a symbol of their learning what it meant to take a life. It was the name of the kill that taught them the significance of ending another’s life.

Endrance hadn’t been into ritual scarification, but he had stitched a symbol representing the name of the wolfman he had killed. It had been a strong lesson for him. He could now appreciate having learned it, but it was difficult nonetheless.

Endrance’s feet hit the ground harder than expected, and he fell on his backside as the rope slipped from his grasp. He tumbled back to avoid the next wolfman landing on him. Fortunately, he took the drop easily and stepped out of the way of the next. Endrance could hear a muted chuffing as his companions laughed quietly.

The mage sighed and stood, dusting snow off his legs and rear. Once all of them had descended, the last gave the rope a tug and the barbarian escort pulled it up. They wouldn’t be able to return until either the war was over, or the mages were dead, whichever came first. It suited Endrance fine, so long as they kept the enemy forces from reaching the wall, then the Ascension should remove the target of the risen dead.

Endrance pushed his doubts out of his mind. He had been drawn to the ghost of Rothel a second time for a purpose. The dead didn’t change; they were locked into the same feelings and intentions they had upon their deaths. Rothel, serving decades protecting Balator in its most tenuous years, hadn’t stopped caring for the kingdom. He wouldn’t have lied to him when it came to saving his people, even if he was dead. Of course, the dead’s ability to interpret their earthly desires could get twisted up, but Endrance hadn’t sensed any madness in the old ghost.

Endrance looked at the wolfmen assembled. The collective light of the moons and stars made for a bright night; and Endrance could see well enough without having to use any other tricks. The wolfmen blended well in the snow, staying low. The mage crouched, trusting his coat to break up his profile and make identifying him as a human difficult.