Spell Fade (28 page)

“I don’t understand anything anymore,” Dartan said without lifting his head. After a moment of silence he finally looked up and met Logan’s eyes. “I’ll tell you what I do know, though.” He braced his hands on the ground, and pushed himself up into a standing position. His legs wavered the tiniest bit, but held. “If being a ruler means putting myself over others, then I want no part of it.” Without another word or look, he turned and headed for the mouth of the cave.

Dartan could hear Logan calling out, but he had no reason to stop. He could feel some weakness in his legs, but his mind was strong, and that was all he needed.

He stood looking towards the top of the cliff above, the wind flapping his clothes against his body. If it could pick up and toss around twenty men, then one should be simple. He lifted his hands and rose effortlessly to the top.

“Dartan, wait!” Logan called as he reached the rock landing. He arrived just in time to see Dartan disappear over the top of the cliff wall. “No, don’t worry about me,” he mumbled to himself, looking for a good hand hold in the rock wall. “I could really use a good climb after sitting on that cave floor, watching you sleep, for the past four hours.”

*
      
*
      
*

He had imagined every possible way he could have discovered her body, but this was so much worse. The snow covered valley was littered with dead bodies and red blood. Some men stabbed, some decapitated, disemboweled, or hacked in to pieces. All of these he had prepared for, but not what he faced now. He couldn’t find her anywhere.

His search had turned frantic by the time he reached the end of the trail of bodies. It was a small pile, and on top, was Marcus.

“No, no, no,” Dartan whispered as he fell to the ground and rolled Marcus’s head into his lap. His body was cold, stiff, and covered in dried blood. Dartan could not count the number of wounds decorating his body, but it was obvious he had fought until his last breath. And, by Dartan’s count, almost to the last man. Besides Aliet’s body, the other he did not see was Roal’s.

“I’m sorry this happened to you,” Dartan whispered to Marcus’s still face, tears stinging his eyes. “Thank you … for everything.”

What now? Aliet and the box were both missing, and Marcus dead. Everything seemed hopeless. But it didn’t have to be. He was a wizard, after all. There had to be something he could do. He placed his hand on Marcus’s forehead, closed his eyes, and listened. Just listened.

“Death is too close to him.” The only reason he didn’t scream was he had half-expected something to happen. The voice did startle him though, as it came from beside him, and did not belong to Marcus. Still, it only took him a moment to recognize it.

“Now you decide to finally show yourself?” Dartan said looking up to meet Alain’s eyes. “Here to offer guidance and counsel when I have neither need nor desire for it.” Alain remained silent, his blank expression unchanged, which only fueled Dartan’s anger. “Where were you when I actually would have cared to hear what you had to say?” Only silence answered him, and he turned his gaze back to Marcus.

“You cannot bring him back,” Alain said.

“I have to try,” Dartan replied without looking up. He was peering deep within the body, searching for Marcus.

“Very well,” Alain sighed, kneeling beside them. “You might as well become acquainted with Death now. You will be encountering him for the rest of your life.”

Dartan looked up, questions in his eyes. Alain held up a hand to stop them, and simply pointed back towards the far side of the valley. “Look for Marcus there.”

Dartan followed Alain’s finger and found a tall, slim figure covered in a dark, hooded robe staring back at him. At least, he assumed it was staring as he could see nothing of a face inside the hood. His body recoiled under the perceived glare, and goose-flesh pimpled his entire body. Both reactions were involuntary and Dartan struggled to maintain some sense of calm. He would need control for any chance of saving Marcus.

Dartan took a deep breath, reached out towards the hooded figure, and was nearly knocked flat. When he had reached for the dragon, the resulting void had felt unnatural, but what he met now was overwhelming. It was a roar.

“Help me”

“Mouths to feed”

“Too soon”

“Revenge!”

Every soul ever collected by Death called out to him for another chance. For life. Finding Marcus in that chaos was impossible. He could feel his concentration waning as his mind grew weary of shuffling through the myriad of voices. Then, an idea.

Dartan focused on Aliet’s face, holding the image in his mind. He then added a feeling of danger and urgency, and reached out with it to the hooded figure. The voices still called out, but he forced them to the back of his mind, holding Aliet at the front. As he began to feel the strain of it, he tried one last thing. He let out a high, long whistle that echoed across the valley. Suddenly, movement under his hands.

“Dartan?” asked a weak Marcus. “Is that you?” he added, his stark white eyes searching, but unable to see anything through the veil.

“Yes,” Dartan said with a smile. “Of course it is.” A tear of relief and happiness streaked down his cheek. “Now be still, and rest a bit,” he urged Marcus.

“He hasn’t much time,” Alain warned.

“What do you mean?” Dartan asked. Alain pointed again at the figure, which Dartan saw was now moving towards them.

“He’s not alive, Dartan.” Dartan shook his head, unbelieving. He reached down to Marcus’s chest and found no heartbeat. Likewise, no breath escaped from his lips. “His soul belongs to Death now, and it is coming to retrieve him. Say what you need, ask what you will, and let him go.”

Say? Ask? Dartan had neither. He had wanted only to save Marcus. He had no idea what to say to the corpse of Marcus. Fortunately, Marcus had his own message.

“Aliet,” his dry voice rasped.

“She’s not here,” Dartan said with some difficulty.

“I know. Roal took her and the box.” His body sprang to life, his arms reached up, grabbed onto Dartan’s shirt, and pulled him close. “You must promise me … ” He faded for a moment, his grip loosened and jaw slacked, then, “Aliet, she-”

“Yes, I promise,” Dartan interrupted. Death was drawing near and Dartan wanted Marcus to pass back peacefully. “I’ll find her, and save her. I will protect her and take care of her. Always.”

“No!” Marcus’s grip on Dartan’s shirt grew even stronger than before. “I leave this world with no concern for Aliet’s safety or security. But that’s not enough. You must promise me that you will love her. Love her as she loves you.” There was only silence as Dartan looked into the dead man’s eyes. What could he say?

“Of course,” he said finally. “I promise.” Speaking the words, he realized it was love he felt for her, and only Marcus had been able to see it clearly. It was the easiest promise he would ever make.

Death was upon them. It reached out a gloved hand and the dim spark of life that had inhabited Marcus’s body was extinguished. The faceless creature passed by Dartan and rested its gaze on Alain. There were no features, but Dartan could sense a smile upon its face. It pointed at Alain, who returned the smile.

“Yes, my old friend,” Alain said. “It will be soon. But not today.” It nodded, then turned and wagged its finger at Dartan, scolding him before disappearing. As Death dissolved from view, another figure appeared. Logan.

“Thanks for the help back there,” he said, a little out of breath. He stopped when he saw Marcus’s body in Dartan’s lap.

“Damn,” he whispered. “Is he dead?” Dartan could only nod. Logan lowered his head a moment, then said, “Well, better to die here than plowing a field.”

What was that supposed to mean? Dartan could feel his cheeks flush with anger at the suggestion there was anything good about Marcus’s death. When he looked again at Marcus though, he realized the truth in Logan’s words. Marcus was a farmer because he had to be. In his heart he would always be a warrior, and for him there would be no better death than on the battlefield. The anger slowly drained, leaving a void the sadness was eager to fill.

“Aliet and the box,” Logan said, looking left and right. “What happened to them?”

“Taken.”

“What about him?” Logan asked with a nod in Alain’s direction. “Here to offer help after we needed it?”

“Honestly, I don’t know,” Dartan said. He lifted Marcus from his lap and rose to face Alain. “Why are you here now?” His voice grew in volume and accusation as he spoke. “Where were you when we needed to know what was here? Or when we found it, but didn’t know what we were supposed to do with it? Or even when I, your apprentice, needed guidance battling a wizard?”

“Who said you were still an apprentice?” Alain asked calmly.

“What?!” Dartan nearly screamed. “Of all those questions, that’s the one you want to address?” Alain made no move to answer, so Dartan continued. “Alright, then. Nobody said it. They didn’t have to. You think I can’t just look around at the state of things and see I’m not ready for the responsibility?” His voice cracked and he fell to his knees next to Marcus.

“I tried blaming you,” he whispered, without looking up at Alain. “I tried to make it your fault for sending us here without preparing me. Telling myself you should have known I wasn’t ready. The simple truth is, I failed.” He looked up at Alain, who still managed to have the same blank stare. It was like looking at a painting.

“I knew I wasn’t ready,” Dartan admitted. He glanced at Logan, who wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Even after the lessons, I knew.” He looked back down at Marcus, wishing he felt even a fraction of the peace on his still face. “I just didn’t know the price others would be forced to pay for my foolish fantasy of being a powerful wizard.”

“If you feel that way,” Alain finally said, “then a fantasy is all it ever will be.” Dartan and Logan exchanged a glance, surprised by the comment after his silence. “I can tell you this for certain: the actions I have seen were accomplished by much more than any mere apprentice.”

“But how can I be-”

“Are you not able to reach out and feel the power in everything around you?” Alain interrupted. “Have you not tested your will, and begun to learn its strength?”

Dartan felt his head start to nod in agreement the tiniest bit, but he quickly stopped it. “But I’ve made so many mistakes.”

“Everyone makes mistakes.”

“Well, because of mine Marcus is dead, Aliet taken, and the fate of our entire world is in jeopardy.”

Alain merely shrugged. “Some mistakes are bigger than others.” He then raised a finger, “But the lesson learned is as well.”

Dartan still protested. “What about spells? I don’t know any spells.”

Alain waved a dismissive hand. “Wands and words are for the weak-willed. Until of late, I’ve not had any use for either, and neither shall you.” Dartan opened his mouth, but Alain stopped him. “You pulled a soul from the clutches of Death itself. Who taught you that trick?” Alain raised his bushy eyebrows. “I know it wasn’t me, because it’s certainly something I’ve never been able to achieve.”

“If I had known more then maybe I wouldn’t have lost to Roal, leaving Marcus and Aliet alone to deal with this force.”

“I already told you,” Logan interjected. “You won that duel.” He turned to Alain. “Tell him using dragon artifacts is cheating.”

“Indeed it is,” Alain agreed. “And I must say, I’m not surprised. He tried using it on me as well.”

Dartan ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. His irritation and frustration thick in his tone. “Cheating or not, the fact remains that it was me who went over that cliff, and now Marcus is dead. My moral victory is of little consolation compared with the losses we have accrued.”

Dartan looked straight at Alain as he continued. “While you may not have been surprised by his use of dragon magic, I was.” He stood and moved towards Alain as he spoke. “Just as I’m sure Logan was surprised by the appearance of a dragon in this valley. Would you have been?” Alain assumed his portrait stance against Dartan’s advances. “Tell me, are there any other surprises you haven’t told us about? Anything that might keep us from making any more tragic mistakes?” He was mere inches from Alain’s face. The desire to reach out and grab a handful of his robe was almost too strong to deny. There was no doubt his hands would pass through Alain like thin air, but that knowledge did precious little to diminish the impulse.

“Alain?!” The voice came from behind Dartan, and it conveyed both surprise and concern.

“Norrick,” Alain answered, without looking past Dartan. “Right on time.”

“Surprise,” Logan said with mock enthusiasm.

Dartan spun on his heels to find a man holding a white box with golden in-lays. He held it by two handles set into the sides, and pulled it close to his body when he noticed Dartan admiring it.

“What are you doing here?” Norrick asked.

“Waiting on you,” Alain answered with a faint smile.

Norrick nervously shifted his eyes from Dartan to Logan, absently licking his lips. “These men, who are they?”

“Ah, where are my manners? Let me introduce Logan.” Alain held out a hand in Logan’s direction, who stood with one hand on his sword. “The Dragonslayer.” Norrick’s eyes widened at the unexpected title, but nearly fell out of his head as Alain continued. “And this is Dartan, the heir.”

“The heir?” he stuttered, cradling the box under his arm. He eyed Dartan a bit more closely. “So, this is your son?”

“Wow,” Logan stated. “I am so embarrassed. I swear this has never happened to me before. Can we just forget I said ‘surprise’ and let me try again? That first one was obviously a premature exclamation.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Dartan said, turning back to face Alain. “It’s not really a surprise anyway.” Alain’s reaction was little more than raised eyebrows, which, honestly, was even more than Dartan expected. “The way you talk about my mother, and how you’re letting your guilt slowly kill you made it hard for me
not
to figure it out.” Alain looked past him to Norrick.

“Thank you for bringing my chest,” Alain said. “You can just drop it there and be on your way.” Norrick made no move, other than shifting his suspicious glare between Dartan and Logan. “I’m afraid you’ll have to go on alone from here,” Alain continued. “As you can probably see, this Northern force isn’t going anywhere.”