Death Comes To All (Book 1) (42 page)

"You've
only seen a little bit of what he can do," Raiste told her
proudly, as if it had been him who had such power. "I don't know
everything he can do, but he can certainly draw in magical attacks
that are used against him. Any of those powers alone would make him
formidable. All of them together will make him one of the most
dangerous men alive."

"I
can understand why. So how did you unlock it?"

The
two men filled her in on what she had missed. "So basically he
hears his mother's voice, and that brings out his magic? I've heard
of being a momma's boy, but that's taking it to a whole new level,"
she joked.

"Hey!
That's not true at all!"

Raine
laughed. "I'm just kidding with you Drom. Don't take things so
seriously."

"Now
that we know how to unlock your magic, you can start to work on your
stamina," Raiste said, changing the subject. “There would
be enough time for joking around later. While you were using your
magic, how did you feel about your fighting technique?"

"It
was completely different this time," Drom informed him. "Ocean's
Hand felt light as a feather, and each move felt as natural as
breathing. It was even easier than last time. I just did what felt
right, and everything seemed to flow together."

"That's
what I thought it would be like," Raiste said happily. "The
more practice you get while using your magic, the easier it will be
for you. Your stamina should become stronger as you go as well. I
wish we had a way to test your ability to absorb attacks. It's
something I don't know anything about. At the very least you can now
practice your swordsmanship while under the effect of your magic. How
do you feel right now?"

Drom
thought about it for a moment before answering. "I'm a little
tired, though nothing like what I felt like after the battle with
Sloan and his men. I think I can continue practicing for a while
longer."

"Good.
Last time you used it for a longer period of time, so that's not a
surprise. I don't think we need to bother setting up targets for you
to attack. From here on just amp up your power and practice your
form. The more you use it, the better you'll understand it, and the
faster you will be. Such petty targets won't make a difference when
they don't pose any resistance to your sword."

"I'm
going to go back to my fishing now, unless you need me for
something," Raine told them. "Try to keep the wind down to
a dull roar, if that's at all possible."

"It
won't be," Raiste assured her. "He's not summoning or
controlling that wind. In fact, I'm fairly certain that it's not wind
at all, not in the strictest sense. I felt that same thing when we
fought Sloan, and we were inside a building at the time. If that was
only wind, you wouldn't feel it inside a building. I think that wind
is nothing more than a blow-back of his power. It's so strong it
affects the very air around him. There's no way for him to control
it, though in time he might learn to control how much power he's
putting out. Right now he's using everything at once. You don't need
to worry too much. He won't be able to practice for long with his
magic. Until he builds up his stamina, I don't think he'll be able to
hold out for more than a few minutes at a time."

We’ll
see about that!

Drom
silently vowed not to stop his practice with his magical power until
he had no other choice. He knew that Raiste didn't think he would
last long. It hadn’t really been necessary for him to say it
out loud. Raine chuckled lightly and left, heading for the waterway
that ran right behind the home. Drom once again turned back to his
practice, with Raiste looking on.

Now
that he knew what he needed to do to spark it, the magic came far
easier to him than it had before. He started out practicing the
techniques that Raiste had been teaching him, but now he felt
something else underneath it, hidden just beneath the surface of the
form. Slowly something new, a technique that he hadn't been taught,
began to take shape in his mind. Without thinking about it he slipped
into this new style.

Like
the form Raiste had been trying to teach him over the past few days,
this style utilized continuous motion. The blade went from one attack
to another without pausing, even for a moment. Like water flowing
over a river stone it just continued on, a never ending torrent of
movement.

Somehow,
he could sense that the defense of this new form came, not from
blocking directly like the forms he had studied would, but from
striking an oncoming weapon with an opposing strike of his own.
Raiste was right. This was not a style he could be taught, but
something that came to him instinctively, and was entirely his own.

He
continued practicing for a full hour before his strength finally gave
out. The blue blaze that shielded him disappeared, and he swooned
like a drunken sailor, nearly falling. Without being asked, Raiste,
who had stayed nearby watching the entire time, caught him from
underneath, holding him upright. With the assassin's aid, Drom made
his way into the estate, finally plopping down on the couch in the
living room.

Trick,
who had spent the majority of the past few days perched in a corner
of the banister that orbited the entry room on the second floor, flew
down into the room and landed on the couch above Drom's head,
chirping an inquiry. Drom looked back at the small dragonling, but
didn't even have the energy to answer him. The dragonling looked over
to Raiste, who didn't give an answer to the creature either. With a
sound that Drom had never heard before, but sounded to him very much
like a huff, the creature flew back out of the room.

"Don't
worry, you'll be just fine," Raiste assured him. It almost
sounded to Drom like he was trying to convince himself more than
anyone else.

Drom
couldn't give an answer. When he tried his words were slurred, as if
he had been drugged.

"Is
everything alright?" Raine asked, running into the room. Trick
followed a few feet behind, chirping away in a scolding manner. "I
was out back fishing when Trick started diving at me. I could tell he
wanted to get my attention, and he led me here. Is Drom alright?"

"He's
fine," Raiste assured her. "Trick must have been worried
and overreacted. Drom just pushed himself to his limit is all. After
a little rest, and maybe a bit to eat, he'll be up and around again
in no time at all."

"He
doesn't look good," she pointed out.

"He's
just exhausted himself. He kept his magic up for an hour or more,
which is absolutely amazing in my opinion. I wouldn't have expected
him to last that long after a year of practice. Certainly not after
only just learning how to use it."

"Well,
as long as everything is OK, I'll go back to fishing," she said.
She looked directly at Trick, who was dancing back and forth
nervously on the back of the couch. "And as for you, don't come
out bothering me unless there's really something to worry about. You
had me thinking that we were in danger."

Trick
chirped a reply, though what he might have been trying to say was
anyone's guess. Not even Raiste, who understood the sapphire
dragonling most of the time, could say for certain what he was trying
to tell her.

Probably
he’s trying to tell her that he was only trying to help,
Drom thought.

He
could still see and understand what was going on around him, even if
he did have trouble interacting with anything at the moment.

Raine
left the room, presumably to go back to her fishing as she had told
them she would. Raiste left as well, though Drom had no idea where
the man might have been going. Trick plopped down on the couch behind
him. Even if his other friends were leaving him alone for the moment,
it was obvious that the small creature had no intention of going away
until it was certain he was all right. Trick wasn't nearly as
convinced as the rest of his friends that he was fine. Only a few
moments later, however, Raiste returned with an orange, which he
peeled for his friend, handing him the slices one at a time.

"Here,
you should eat something," the assassin told him. Drom couldn't
voice a reply, but took the bits of food willingly enough. The small
wedges helped revitalize him quite a bit, much more than he would
have thought. After the first few bites he found his voice once
again.

"Thank
you," he said groggily. The worst of the lethargy had left him,
though he still felt drained.

I
could sleep for a week if Raiste and Raine would let me,
he
thought.

"No
problem," Raiste answered simply. "From now on, try not to
overdue it so much if you don’t have to. You're not a
light-weight after all. I can't carry you home every time you wipe
yourself out. In a few more days I'll probably be leaving for Miani
don't forget, and I don't think Raine could have carried you in
here."

"Sorry.
I just wanted to see how far I could go," Drom told him. "You
told me that I should know my limits."

"True,
but you don't want to push yourself too far too quickly. Granted, you
can't kill yourself by pushing to far, but you can still get hurt."

"Well,
now I know how long I can go before dropping," Drom said, his
voice still somewhat slurred.

"For
now, yes. If you continue to train with your magic, you'll probably
get stronger. Pushing yourself to the point of collapse could
potentially have the opposite effect. You should take a few days off
before practicing again. Maybe go fishing with Raine, or perhaps we
can start jarring food for the coming winter. You shouldn't do
anything too strenuous for the rest off the day, and don't use your
magic for at least the next three. How do you feel now? Do you feel
any of your strength coming back?"

Drom
shook his head. "The only thing I feel like doing right now is
sleeping. I've never felt so tired."

"Resting
would probably do you a lot of good right now," Raiste commented
in agreement. "I'm going to head into the kitchen and get things
ready for us to store away the fruits and vegetables we gathered over
the past few days. Call me if you need anything." That said the
assassin headed out of the room.

Trick
chirped once, softly, and lay his head on Drom's shoulder, as if to
say that he would watch over him for the group. Drom chuckled. How
much the dragonling understood he couldn't be certain of, but if he
needed anything he sensed that the small creature would get someone
for him.

He
tried to stand, hoping to be able to reach the book he had been
reading, but finally had to give up. He just didn't have the energy
to move. Trick chirped at him, a sound that Drom interpreted as an
inquiry, though what the question might be he didn't know.

"I
don't suppose you could get my book for me?" Drom chuckled. Of
course he didn't actually expect the creature to know what he meant.

Surely
Trick won't understand me any more than I can understand him,
Drom
thought,
Regardless of how much Raiste thinks otherwise.

Trick
stood and looked over to the small table between two of the chairs,
where his book still sat from his reading the night before.
Unexpectedly he flew over to the table, looking down at the book,
then back at Drom. He chirped twice.

Perhaps
he really does understand me,
Drom thought. Certainly the
creature had seen him reading it over the past few days, but Drom
never expected him to actually know what it was.

"That's
the one," Drom said encouragingly. "Bring it over here if
you can please."

The
book was not heavy, but the dragonling was not very large either. For
a moment Drom thought that Trick wasn't going to be able to carry the
book, but of course he had already seen the creature carry fish that
weren't much smaller than that book was. With a little effort he
managed to get the book in the air, and a few moments later deposited
it in Drom's waiting hands.

"Thank
you Trick," Drom said to the dragonling. "I don't think I
would have been able to get it on my own. If I hadn't seen it with my
own eyes, I never would have believed you could understand me that
well."

Trick
didn't give so much as a chirp in answer. Drom knew that it wasn't
that the dragonling didn't understand him; his small friend had just
proven that. It was more likely that Trick just didn't think that the
comment justified an answer. With Trick's head once again resting on
his shoulder, he began reading.

At
some point in time I must have fallen asleep,
he realized when he
woke some time later.

Trick
still rested his head on his shoulder. He could tell that the
dragonling was still wide awake. The book had fallen onto his chest,
still opened to the page he had been reading. He dog-eared a corner
of the page and placed the book down beside him.

Carefully,
he tried to stand, not certain if his legs would even work yet. Trick
removed his head as soon as he began moving. Before his nap he hadn't
really been able to move much at all, and he had no reason to believe
that the small amount of rest he had gotten would have helped.