Book 5, Chapter 39: Interruption
Shouts and screams jolted me to consciousness. I hadn’t been sleeping, but not awake either. It seemed I lived in a dreamlike state. I think it was daytime when last I could experience normally. But how many days had passed?
The bars blurred as I sat up, then more or less fell into place. Beyond them, the path was narrow, fit only for one wagon at a time, and so I had no visitors other than the three staring mages. Still the high hillside on my left and a long, steep slope falling away to a deep valley on my right. I wondered if I could throw my body against the cliffside and cause the wagon to fall. Probably not, it was very heavy and I was but a girl.
We must have been moving uphill. Mountains on the other side of the valley were high and snowcapped, the trees all stopped growing somewhat further down. It was rockier, cooler, verging on cold. The path seemed precarious, wagon shaking left and right as the wheels hit stones and little gullies. Down in the valley, a river with water flowing so quickly, it appeared white from up here.
I pulled my frayed and ruined dress tighter. Though I did so for the cold, the movement made me shy, these people watching so intently.
Something tickled the back of my palm. Reluctantly, I opened my eyes, sat up, looked, expecting a rat or cockroach. A little green sprout, poking up from the wood. Then the wagon shook violently, hitting a rough patch, throwing my body backward and shearing off its stem. I picked it up, but it was crushed. It was mine, my creation, I knew.
Their hold over me, my magic, must be weakening!
I looked at the three mages, concentrating, staring at me. A man on the left, two woman on the right. They hadn’t swapped out the left one yet. I stared at him, smiling, and pulled and pulled on the threads of my power, pushing energy into my palm, and was rewarded with three more tiny herbs sprouting from the wood.
His skin wrinkled, hair greying, grabbed his stomach and doubled over. The woman in the middle’s shoulders slumped. On the right, dark circles under her eyes, she struggled to keep them open.
An inky shadow fell from the sky, smashing into the cliffside mage. Landing on her head, the raven rammed its beak into her left eye. She threw her hands up, yelled, grabbing the bird and tossing it away. Another and another dove from the sky, smacking into her head over and over.
Down the line behind us, a man yelled, “Get them off of me!” Horses neighed loudly, lots of crashing in that direction, and then a series of tremendous thuds.
The birds knew, sensed their weakness! Now was the time. I shook my head to clear my foggy mind. It was like fighting a hangover, the pain meds wearing off. Crust in and under my eyes. Limbs moving slowly. Thirsty, very thirsty. Yet I had to ignore all these and focus.
As the cliffside mage lost her concentration, screaming away and flailing at the birds harassing her, it felt like a weight lifting off my body, and a trickle of power returned. I grabbed onto the energy, pulling and pulling it into me. I needed the beast now, the raging vortex, but it was like struggling through the icy cold current of a northern river.
She shook her head, brushed blood away from her eyes, resumed staring at me and that weight was right back on, pressing me down. Then another bird hit her. Fresh blood welled up from a new cut in her head. A bird smashed into her again. And another, another, another. She screamed and opened her hands, redirecting her magic at the birds. The next one hit her injured eye and the woman fell off the wagon.
A flock descended on her then, tearing and biting at her repeatedly – all I saw were her arms waving around in a tornado of feathers before she fell off the road. The birds took to the air, gaining height.
Only two mages facing me. And they were aging before my eyes. The best chance I had. Reaching deep within, I found the rage. Fueled it.
The left man held his staff tighter still, concentrating all the more deeply on me, ignoring the commotion. Growling, a bunch of foxes jumped from the mountainside onto him, tearing into his arms, legs, neck and ear. He shouted, flailed against the canines, concentration broken. The birds dove in from the sky, aiming for the remaining woman.
I took a deep and pure breath. Sat up straight. Flames ran up and down my bound arms and I pushed them forward, aiming at the remaining wizard seated in the middle.
She grew old, winced, struggled to breathe, then stood and smashed her staff against the wagon. As the circle of death expanded outward, the birds fell from the sky and foxes went limp, browned, fur and feathers drying, colors fading, the mage beside her yelled out and collapsed, eyes hollow and skin becoming papery, shrinking against his bones, both wagons stopped, the circle hit me and I fell against the bars, holding to them, cold beneath my hands, gasping, slid down to the floor on my knees and elbows.
The fires around my hands dimmed. I pushed back, reaching for the divinity, growing the fire and lightning and burning into the wood beneath me, struggling to get up. I needed to laser her!
“Stop this!” shouted the grand magister. “Your animals cannot save you!”
Fresh mages appeared, adding their circles to the woman’s. I pushed against them, willing my energy to release, but it was like fighting the rising tide. Little by little, the beams circling my wrists shrunk to my hands, fires dimming, vanished into the darkness. I could not but grab my stomach, fall onto my side.
I heard a loud clunk when the grand magister’s staff smashed my head.
***
Daylight when the rocky path of the wagon woke me up. Not for the first time, I wished their lee springs were better. Headache, but that was normal for me now. The side of my head pulsed. I touched it. A bump, sticky.
Tall grass passed by on the left. On the right, a horse. I didn’t look up past his legs.
“You earned it.”
Moved my gaze up. A heavy calvary rider, armed with a long staff. Must have orders to hit me if I try anything. Curse words came to mind, but it wasn’t worth the effort.
On the other side of the prison wagon, the grand magister’s voice spoke, “How many animals have you sacrificed in vain? Call them off.”
My throat was parched from not drinking their drugged water. Wrists raw where the metal bound them, red. I didn’t look at him.
““We’ve solidified our defenses against such mundane creatures. They’re dying by the hundreds now, every night.”
I rose to my knees. Stared at the wood. So thirsty, yet I was loathe to give up reality. Every night? I wondered how many nights had passed.
“You care so little for the ravens and foxes that you’d allow them to die against our magic?”
“I don’t control them.”
“It’s appalling that you’re willing to have so many creatures die for you. But, we are nearing the temple now. They will not hear your voice once inside.”
“The demons are coming.” I hoped that would trouble his sleep. Yet I worried for my ravens and crows and foxes. I didn’t know how to stop them. We never communicated, though I felt their love, their worship. Despite the headache, the nausea, I committed myself to trying, through meditation, to get them to stop attacking these mages.
He gave me a cold stare. “We captured one of your men. Your bodyguard whom you made a general.”
“Morry . . .? How?” I couldn’t get my mind around it.
“He cut down three of our soldiers. During the last large attack.”
“Let him go and I’ll call off the beasts. Tell the demons not to come.”
“I think having him with us will make you more compliant.”
“Let him go and I’ll be compliant.”
“Forgive me if I don’t trust your word.”
“I want to see him.”
“In time.”
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