Fell Beasts and Fair Page 6

  My next stop was a bookseller, but I had no luck at the first three I tried. The fourth one was owned by a tiny old man whose face was a mass of wrinkles, but he was extremely knowledgeable and picked out two books for me. One was called Meditations on Magic and the other had no title at all, but was bound in dark, supple leather that held together an assortment of hand-written notes that contained—or so the shopkeeper promised—exactly what I was looking for. Since I hadn’t been able to tell him what I was looking for, I had to take his word on that.

  Feeling slightly better about the fool’s errand I’d agreed to, I spent the rest of the afternoon purchasing improvements to my wardrobe, along with a leather pack and a map of the northern lands. I wasn’t entirely certain where the dragon’s cave was, but rumor had always placed it somewhere in the northern mountains. I added thick, woolen socks and fur-lined pants to my pack, and laid in a supply of jerked meat and dried fruit. While I assumed Ariel would be providing food, it didn’t hurt to be prepared.

  Between the books and my new, warm clothes, the pack was nearly full, but I only had one more stop to make. One of my last purchases was going to be a cloak. I would have loved to be able to afford a wyvern-skin cloak; they were practically indestructible, even to dragon fire. But since that would have taken five or six bags of gold, I was going to have to opt for what my last few golden coins could purchase—a simple woolen cloak imbued with fire-proofing spells. The clerk could make no guarantees about dragon fire, but swore I could sit in a furnace for at least an hour before the spells would burn away. It would have to do.

  I walked home, self-conscious in my newly acquired wealth. I avoided the seedier parts of town, not wanting to lose any of it, and reached my rented room with a sigh of relief. Dinner was easily obtained from one of the taverns on my road, and then I went to bed early, anxious for dawn.

  Sleep eluded me for a while. I’d never owned anything bespelled before, and the cloak and dagger’s presence buzzed at the edge of my mind in an unfamiliar fashion. Fully conscious that I’d be traveling most of the morrow, I sternly banished the sensation and shut my eyes. Eventually, I slept.

  Dawn found me at the north gate, stickily eating a fruit pastry as I awaited my companions. Ivis appeared first, scuttling into sight sideways, darting glances everywhere. I rolled my eyes. If he continued to act like that, he’d attract the attention of everyone from here to the dragon. Studied nonchalance, that was the key. I wandered over to a water trough and rinsed my fingers clean. As I was topping off my water flask, another recent purchase, I noticed Hendar lurking in an alley and couldn’t repress a shiver. That man knew how to lurk properly. That was three of us; where was Ariel?

  At the sound of approaching hoofbeats, I looked up, expecting guardsmen or the like. Instead, I saw a magnificent black stallion, and I had a sinking feeling in my chest as I looked up to see its rider. Ariel. Of course.

  He was leading three others, already saddled and ready to ride. Hendar and Ivis approached, and each chose a mount without hesitation. That left one for me, but I made no move to take the reins.

  “Lily?” Ariel said, and I looked up into his eyes. A day apart had done nothing to lessen the force of his presence; if anything, it intensified it.

  I gulped. “I don’t know how to ride,” I whispered, ashamed.

  “I should have thought of that,” Ariel said, and smiled warmly. I felt a tingle all the way down to my toes, and curled them inside my new boots.

  Swinging a leg over the stallion’s neck, he dropped easily to the ground. Working quickly, he transferred the pack from behind his saddle to the other horse. He held out a hand for my pack as well, which I gave up reluctantly. It made me nervous to put my belongings out of reach. He attached the reins to his horse in some fashion I didn’t see, and then laid out a piece of fur behind his horse’s saddle.

  I watched all this skeptically, not sure I liked where it was leading, but I didn’t see that I had much choice. Ivis and Hendar were already mounted, packs in place and turned toward the gate.

  Ariel remounted as smoothly as he’d dismounted, then extended a hand to me. I took it uncertainly, then gasped as I was pulled suddenly into his lap.

  “Here,” he said, “put your foot on mine and then swing around behind me.”

  I was no doubt beet red, but I did as he instructed and in short order found myself perched behind him.

  “All set?” he asked, smiling over his shoulder.

  Confronted with the vast expanse of his back, I looked in vain for a handhold that wasn’t extremely personal and eventually settled for clutching his jacket at the sides.

  “Yes,” I managed to say, and we started off with a suddenness that made me squeak in fear and clutch at his waist.

  He chuckled and patted my arm, and we headed out.

  I repositioned my hands and tried to forget the feel of firm muscles under my fingers.

  He’s not for you, I told myself, but I didn’t want to listen.

  The day was an exercise in patience as my nerves were rubbed raw by his proximity and the rain that started to fall midmorning. I huddled under my cloak, wishing I’d added waterproofing spells as well. Ariel steamed gently, and I suspected he had some sort of water-repellent spell in progress. My hands itched occasionally as I clutched his coat, adding one more discomfort to my misery.

  We called it quits early, stopping at an inn midway through the afternoon. As the only girl, I got a room to myself and huddled in front of the small fire with a cup of tea. Eventually I warmed up, and pulled out my books to read until suppertime.

  They were not what I expected.

  The first one, Meditations on Magic, was a series of essays about what magic is—and is not. It was interesting, but not particularly helpful as I had very little background in magic to draw on. I gave up reading and started flipping through the pages, pausing when a word or phrase caught my eye. About midway through the book, a title caught my eye: “Nulls and other Nonsense.” I read eagerly.

  It has been posited by some, it began, that there are in existence so-called ‘nulls’—people who can sense magic being worked, but cannot touch it themselves. This is, of course, balderdash, as anyone who can sense magic can work it—at least to some degree. The author has never met any such person, and finds it doubtful that there is in existence a person who possesses the magical sensing ability but is unable to use it to touch magic. It would be like expecting a person who can sing to be unable to speak. The abilities are intertwined, and though they may vary in degrees of training and talent, one never finds one without expecting the other.

  I turned the page, eager to learn more, but the author began talking about soulstones, whatever those were, and unless I wanted to know the easiest (and most commonly overlooked, in the eyes of the author) way to free a captive—break the stone—the essayist was not particularly helpful. I read to the end of the essay in the vain hope he’d return to the topic of nulls, but eventually closed the book in frustration.

  At this point, my stomach growled, reminding me I needed supper, so I made my way downstairs to the dubious companionship of my fellow travelers.

  The days repeated in a similar fashion as we worked our way further north. Every morning I woke up, frequently with a groan from an uncomfortable pallet or—on the worst nights—a bed of grasses or ferns, and cursed whatever crazy notion had gotten me out on the road and into this adventure. By the time breakfast rolled around, I started to feel more at peace with the world, which may have had something to do with the scenery. I cursed myself for a fool, but found my eyes pulled back like a needle to true north. Ariel’s shapely form held my gaze, and I watched him like a moonstruck teenager with her first crush.

  After about a week of this, I decided enough was enough, and asked him to show me how to mount the horse and hold the reins. This put some distance between us, and made me more comfortable. So much more so, that I put a hand on the hilt of my dagger and rubbed my thumb across the stone. It prickled at m
y touch, and I dropped back to the end of our train so I could draw it unnoticed.

  Looping the reins around one arm and hoping the horse wouldn’t take it into his head to bolt, I drew the dagger and held it in my right hand. With my left, I drew a finger across the flat of the blade, trying to remember what the swordsmith had said. Yellow for spells of healing and growth, blue for spells of confusion or misdirection, red for emotions, and black for harm or death. The dagger turned slightly purple under my finger’s path, and I scowled. Still, it was better to know. I sheathed the dagger, picked up the reins again, and tried to convince the horse I wanted him to speed up. I had only marginal success, which was about what I had in my attempt to look at something other than Ariel’s back. I gave up with a shrug, and decided to simply admire the view.

  We camped out that night, being unable to reach another village before nightfall. We were passing through an area that was mostly grassland dotted with herds of sheep and the occasional copse of trees. It was near one of these we stopped, built a fire in the remains of previous travelers’ ashes, and cooked a simple stew. I say we; it was Ivis who did the actual cooking. He was a surprisingly good cook, and we generally deferred the cooking duties to him when we camped out. He’d settled down a fair bit once we’d left town, and no longer let his gaze rove suspiciously about. I offered what help I could, preferring, at this point, his company to either Hendar or Ariel’s. I fetched water, gathered firewood, and gathered bowls at his grunted directions.

  After dinner, I took the bowls down to the stream that ran through the trees and scrubbed them out with sand, then sat with my feet in the water and watched the sunset. The water was cool, and I wondered how much colder it would get before we reached our destination. It was early September, and the rains were already cold. The further north we went, the colder it would get. Would we finish our quest before winter closed in in earnest? I didn’t know, and I didn’t want to ask. I sighed, wondering not for the first time if it was too late to turn around and go home. Except—I would go back empty-handed, and there was nothing much waiting for me in Etherwind. I sighed again. For better or worse, I was committed to this adventure.

  I returned to camp to find the three men laying out their blankets.

  “You have first watch,” Ariel said, softening the blow with a warm smile.

  I felt myself responding to the smile even as I sighed a third time. I’d forgotten it was my turn for first watch. On nights we camped out, we took watch in turn, three hours at a time and three people per night. That meant at least one night I’d get an uninterrupted night of sleep, and the others I’d get enough to survive on. I threw a couple of sticks on the fire to keep it alive, then turned my back on it to gaze out over the grasslands and towards the road. After about an hour I began to get drowsy, and stood up and walked the perimeter of the camp for a while. I checked the horses, watched the stars move across the sky, then went and stood by the fire to banish the chill that had crept over me. Another hour crept by, and it was nearing time for me to wake up Hendar, the next one on duty.

  As I waited, the hairs on the back of my neck raised as though I was being watched. I looked at each of the men in turn, but they were all obviously asleep. The feeling grew, along with the sense of general wrongness I get sometimes when someone is doing magic. I glanced again at Ariel, but he was deeply asleep, moving restlessly in the grip of some dream. The sense of pressure increased until I wanted to scream, but I could see nothing wrong. I spun around, but saw nothing. There was no moon tonight, only the vast expanse of stars and the smoldering coals of our cook fire.

  Feeling like a fool but unable to take it anymore, I crouched by Ariel and touched his arm. He roused instantly, drawing a knife and putting it at my throat before I could even squeak in protest.

  “Lily,” he said, removing the knife but not smiling his customary smile. It made his face unusually harsh in the dim light.

  “Something’s wrong,” I managed to whisper once my heart had slowed. “I can’t see anything, but there’s something just—wrong.” I couldn’t explain it any better than that.

  Ariel looked around for a moment, and then breathed deeply of the night air.

  Scrambling out of his blanket, he swore loudly and impressively. “Up, up, you fools!” he shouted to the other men. “Up or die in your beds!”

  I sat in the dust where Ariel had knocked me, shocked and unsure what to do. Figuring that more light couldn’t hurt, I threw a few more sticks on the fire. Hendar and Ivis were up and moving, throwing aside blankets and drawing weapons. As the branches caught, providing more light, I saw Ariel by the horses. He had his stallion saddled and bridled already, and tossed his pack over the back, strapping it down with a few quick moves. I gathered my own pack, still intact, and slung it on my back. If we were going to make a quick getaway, I wanted to be prepared.

  There was still nothing in sight, but the feeling of being watched was still there, as well as the itchy feeling of magic in progress. Hendar and Ivis were circling the fire, staring out into the night. Ariel rode back through camp, and paused to reach a hand down to me. I took it unthinkingly, and found myself in his lap again.

  “Hold on,” he murmured, and I wrapped my arms around his chest. Wheeling his horse, he said over his shoulder, “Don’t look it in the eyes.”

  “What is it?” Hendar grunted.

  “Basilisk,” Ariel said, and jabbed his heels into his horse’s flanks.

  Hendar started screaming profanities and cursing Ariel as we galloped away. Looking back towards the fire, I saw a large, thick shape rise up. It was like a snake, if a snake could be as thick as a man was tall. Its head had a frilled crest and a mouth full of teeth that glistened in the firelight. Hendar and Ivis stood immobilized before it, and then we were too far away for me to see clearly.

  We galloped at first, then slowed to a canter, then alternated between a canter and a trot for some time. The moon finally rose, a thin crescent that illuminated the lighter track of the road, and we finally slowed to a walk. The horse’s sides were heaving and flecked with foam, and I patted its neck in sympathy, trying not to think of the events of the night and failing.

  Ariel had abandoned them. He’d saved me, and abandoned them. Was I sorry for their deaths? Not really, but they had been companions, and Ariel had left them behind without a moment’s thought. What did that mean? And more specifically, should I be worried?

  For the moment I cherished the illusion of safety, tucked in his arms, but while my body rested my mind worked faster than ever.

  “Are you all right?” Ariel murmured, the first words either of us had spoken in a while.

  “Hmm?” I asked, startled from my thoughts. “I’m fine.”

  “Do you feel the basilisk anymore?”

  I shook my head, but couldn’t suppress a shudder.

  “It’s all right,” he said, giving me a one-armed hug. My arm pressed against my dagger, which tingled against my skin, and I felt tears start to my eyes. I turned my face into his chest and cried while he held me.

  Eventually, we stopped for what little was left of the night, and I fell asleep, too exhausted to care whether Ariel was keeping watch or not. The next morning, we came across a walled city, which was most likely Tressa if I was reading my map correctly. They had a substantial garrison, where we stopped first to report the basilisk. The commander seemed a bit skeptical at first, but Ariel’s word as a mage was persuasive.

  “You should be able to catch up to it today,” he said. “After a meal of that size it won’t be going anywhere for a while.”

  My face blanched with remembered horror, but I found myself nodding in agreement. Three horses and two men would gorge even so large a creature as the basilisk.

  “You were lucky to escape,” the commander said.

  Ariel smiled faintly. “I was lucky to have been awake to sense its approach. It’s not like they make a lot of noise.”

  I frowned a bit at this, but bit my tongue in confusion
when Ariel glanced down at me with a conspiratorial wink.

  And then we were out of the garrison and down the road before I could think. I followed behind Ariel, rubbing my prickling dagger hilt thoughtfully.

  We spent the rest of that day in Tressa, resting at an inn and taking the opportunity to bathe and launder our travel-worn selves. I spent the day curled up with the second of my two books, which turned out to be a series of journal entries by a mage in training as he navigated the various pitfalls of magic and school. It was comedic and serious by turns, and by the end of its pages I felt like I had a much clearer sense of what magic was, and what I might someday be able to do with it. I also felt able to set the horror of yesterday at a distance, and slept that night untroubled by dreams.

  We were back on the road early the next morning, Ariel having found a new horse for me, and we fell into a new routine fairly quickly. Another week of travel brought us to foothills, and two days after that we were in the mountains proper. It was cold at night, and I was grateful for my new clothes. I sent a mental thank you and apology to the man who’d inadvertently blessed me with them.

  I also took some time each day to practice sensing spells. This was the first thing the unnamed journal writer had learned, and he offered several tips in the course of his entries—things he’d tried, things that didn’t work, and so forth. After a few days I was much more in tune with the magic going on around me, and could feel the difference between the simple spells in my cloak and the more elaborate one at work in my dagger. I also started isolating the various bits of magic I felt from Ariel, and was both amazed and shocked at the sheer amount of magic he used in the course of a day. There was magic in his jacket, which felt a bit like the spell on my coat, so I assumed it was some sort of weatherproofing. There was magic in at least one of his rings, and in the jewel I hadn’t even noticed in one of his ears. There was magic in his horse’s saddle, and magic in Ariel’s smile whenever it was turned towards me. That one, at least, I could gauge using my dagger, but I grew more adept at spotting it when it happened, which helped lessen its effect. He used magic to start the campfire; he used magic to hobble the horses at night. I’m pretty sure he used magic to convince the various innkeepers to give us a discount when we stayed in a village.