A Dead God's Tear (The Netherwalker Trilogy) (20 page)

As much as the thought of joining that damnable Academy sickened Marcius, he realized it was
prudent and necessary to finish his training as a wizard. He still had much to learn, and the chances he would be able to locate another rogue wizard to take him under their wing was little to none. Also, since it was obvious their antagonist was a wizard, it would be the only way he had a chance at revenge once he found who was responsible for ruining his life. Vengeance has a habit of making people become the very things they hate, and Marcius was no exception to this rule, nor was the irony lost to him.

Don't worry Marc, you and I are one, and our enemies will fall beneath our power,
came the inner voice of Faerril, a near perfect image of his own
. They will soon regret the actions they took on that day.

Marcius gave a brief start in his saddle, which tha
nkfully went unnoticed by his two companions. Last thing he needed was them worrying about him some more, acting as if they were treading on eggshells, afraid that he may snap like his father at any moment. He was still being caught off guard at the familiar's new verbal presence in his head. It came so close to sounding like his own thoughts. Faerril had only started speaking yesterday, picking it up as easily as a babe taking their first breath when being born, and the wyvrr was getting better at it, seemingly by the hour.

The wyvrr's broken ribs seemed to have healed up remarkably quick, along with the injured leg. Marcius suspected some innate magic of the little beast had played a hand in the quick recovery.

He knew instinctively where his familiar was, walking along side the big beasts they rode, occasionally daring to dart playfully between their legs, all under the clandestine guise of invisibility. Marcius wondered absently where Alicia's raven familiar was. Since he had nothing better to do, he allowed himself to fall into his nether sight, using the entrancing show of colors and motion to soothe the homesickness that was beginning to form in his gut.

I hope so, Faerril. I'm not sure if perhaps I am biting off more than I can chew, or even if I am ev
en up to the task.

I don't hope, I know, Marc. It is our destiny.
He felt the pointed stare of his familiar, no doubt hurrying to keep up with the long legged strides of his horse, even before the wave of confidence hit him, imparted from Faerril over their emphatic link. He didn't really have a response to that, so he just kept silent, letting himself fall into the gentle rhythmic pattern of his horse's gait.

The breath caught in his throat as the slowly emerging stars began to mix against the eclectic swi
rling patterns of the nether realm, forming a beautiful backdrop of shifting art amongst the night sky.

Alicia had expertly led them to a suitable camping spot, far enough off the trail as to not attract unwanted attention, but close enough to quickly res
ume their course come the morning. Immediately they began to break camp, preparing to rest for the coming day.

Marcius watched the sun reluctantly surrender to the darkness as he unfurled his sleeping blankets on the still damp ground. The only thing in hi
s mind was how this was the first night of his new life and he had no father nor Master to guide him. Marcius was on his own, with only two companions with dubious reasons known only to them, to accompany him. He was both excited and deathly afraid at what the coming days, weeks, and years held for him. How many more nights could he look forward to watching the stars glimmer in the sky? Would he wind up like his father, stricken down by an unknown spell so terrible that it could cause madness within the mind?

He shrugged inwardly, the motion doing much to conceal the anxiety he felt. Time would tell. What else could he do but wait and see?

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It didn't take long for the novelty of life on the road to wear thin. Five days, in fact, with at least another week and a half to go before reaching the city of Harcourt, where they would restock supplies before heading out again. Oh, of course Marcius still found it interesting, but the glaring annoyances that go hand in hand with having a ceiling of stars every night soon took center stage in his mind.

The books Jared liked to read never said anything about the sweat, pestering bugs, aching muscles, and uncomfortable sleeping arrangements, among other little annoyances. Not even the burgeoning autumn season gave
them respite from it, for it was unusually warm this time of year, though the nights were still bone chillingly cold. It was a sharp contrast of extremes that made it difficult to fall into a comfortable pattern for the weary travelers.

Perhaps it would h
ave been more bearable if he had interesting conversation to dull the throbbing pain of sitting in a saddle all day, but unfortunately it had only taken three days to exhaust every topic that came to mind with the swordsman.

Alicia, on the other hand, had
maintained a stony silence. She was relatively friendly to the pair, but distanced as well; only coming out of her private musings to direct the two rookie travelers from time to time. The only true reprieve from his boredom was from Faerril. The familiar had become increasingly chatty over the past few days, but there were still only so many topics a still infantile familiar could carry on with his Master, so in reality it wasn't much.

They had set up camp this night about a hundred yards from the well tr
aveled trading route they followed, within a small grassy knoll situated in the middle of the Solokivian woods, which they had been traveling through for the last day and a half. The woods were moderately thick, but compared to the Fae'lorea that he was used to, the difference between the two was black and white. The Solokivian woods seemed cheerful in that sense, a new experience for Marcius who had never traveled beyond visiting his Master. During the day he often saw small woodland creatures going about their daily business, the sunlight had cast checkered patterns through the canopy, and the night merely felt like a muted version of the day. No hint of the malicious sense the Fae'lorea usually cast upon a visitor.

Unfortunately today there was no nearby
body of water, no running stream or river, so the three had to content themselves with their hard provisions of dried jerky as they huddled crossed legged around the fire on their bedrolls. The nights were still cold after all. Marcius found that he disliked the texture of the jerky; it was hard to tear and left a bad aftertaste in your mouth. Still, food was food. He just preferred to swallow this with as little chewing as possible. "So," said Jared, obviously addressing Alicia, in between ripping his meal with his teeth, "What's the schedule for tomorrow?"

Inwardly, Marcius was shaking his head. His friend had tried to prompt conversation from the introverted woman every night since they started. It always began with the same question and ended with her an
swering it with as few words as possible, then curling up in her sleeping blankets and going to sleep, or something dismissively similar. "Same as every day,” she replied, looking up from her own meal, the sea-green eyes darting back and forth between Marcius and Jared. "We are nearing the Golean plains, which will be a hazard since it is easy to be spotted on account of how flat it is. That can be a danger for a small group like us. I'm thinking we should perhaps join a trade caravan if we spot one along the way. In the middle of the Golean is Harcourt." At that, she diverted her attention back to her own piece of dried meat, the conversation apparently over.

Jared looked a little put off, shifting around as if he was searching for some way to continue the
conversation. Marcius had the urge to come to his friend's aid, but he didn't really feel like talking. The implications of his actions on taking this journey were just starting to sink in, and he found himself worrying about them more and more as time passed. "Didn't you go to Harcourt about four months ago?" Marcius blurted out before he even realized the words had taken form in his head. Apparently he wasn't as opposed to talking as he thought.

"Yeah, I know the way. But Alicia knows the way beyond that,
which I don't. She's done a good job so far, so I saw no reason to bring it up."

The unexpected compliment seemed to pique the Mage's interest. "Thanks," she said, wiping her hands on her trousers in a distinctly unladylike fashion, having finished her fo
od. "I had to make the trip to Rhensford alone, but I did it with a caravan, so I am mostly going off of memory."

The fact that she was willingly forthcoming seemed to surprise both of them, but Jared was quick on the uptake, “
You're a wizard. Why don't you just like, I don't know, use your magic or something? Can't you just appear at places on whim?" He slapped his hands together lightly to colorfully illustrate a
poof
of smoke
.
To most observers it would seem as if the blonde man was teasing the woman, to the point of being flirtatious, but Marcius knew the swordsman better than that.

It was an obvious attempt to piece some self-appointed mystery together. He had seen Jared do this far too often to not recognize it. In fact, the method of gathering inform
ation reminded Marcius a lot of the Bloodhound; apparently the blonde man had inherited more from his father than he would freely admit.

"It's not that simple. The complexity of transporting an object, even more so a living person, over a great distance is
difficult," she responded, seemingly a bit offended and not at all receptive to the dry humor of the comment. She reluctantly added, "And it's something that I just can't do yet. I've got a long way to go with my studies and developing my innate power before I can do something like that."

But Jared was not one to be deterred as he gently added more wood to the fire, both literally and figuratively. He pressed on with fervor. "Well, what use is magic then? Is the only thing you can do is throw fireballs and
blow things up? I mean, what use is it if you can't at least make yourself live comfortably?"

Alicia rolled her eyes. "Of course not, I have used magic. Just because you're too much of a dolt to notice it, doesn't mean it's not there!"

"Oh? Care to elaborate for us dolts? Preferably in small words."

Instead the Mage reached over and grabbed her pack, tossing it to the swordsman. "Here look inside. It's where I have our food stored, among other things."

"What? All of it? Impossible!" Marcius had to interject; the pack was little more than a small backpack. Most certainly not big enough to handle all the necessary food supplies for a two week, give or take a few days, trip. He felt a little dumber for not even wondering why their pack provisions had seemed so light.

"I see
. . . nothing!" Jared exclaimed, interrupting his friend as he stared inside the light brown pack with amazement. "Nothing but blackness."

"That's because it is enchanted to hold more than any pack should. It sort of holds the items in a pock
et of 'not space.' The pack will summon what you need, as long as it was put in previously. Just think of it and reach in. And Marcius, you of all people should know that nothing is impossible for those who can do magic." Marcius blushed at the criticism, with all that had occurred the past few days, his mind was still a bit addled.

I agree, Marc. Nothing is impossible. I'm a living example of this after all. How could you forget me? It's not every day that you give a part of your soul to a creature, I woul
d think. 
Faerril interrupted in an offended tone, but the slight hint of levity over their emphatic bond they shared gave away the fact that he was just having a bit of fun at his Master's expense. The lithe creature was curled up invisibly on Marcius's bedroll, contently basking in the heat of the fire.

You know, I liked you better when you didn't understand humor!
Marcius responded wryly, making sure to impart the mental equivalent of sticking out one's tongue, just to show the little wyvrr that he, too, was only joking. Once he had explained the concepts of humor to the familiar, he had taken to it surprisingly well. He now used every opportunity to try out the newfound concepts, like a child with a new toy, much to Marcius's chagrin. Despite everything, he found himself grinning at the private conversation, something he had not done much of since this whole trip started.
I must look like a madman, with this stupid smile on my face for no apparent reason.

Yeah, you do look pretty stupid, Marc. I think it
is an improvement. It's much better than looking ugly stupid.

Marcius just shook his head, refusing to take the bait and offer the familiar further ammunition. He instead turned his attention back to his two comrades. Jared had attentively followed her ins
tructions, inching his hand carefully into the pack as if it was the maw of some great monster. Marcius was amazed as the swordsman’s arm slowly disappeared into the confines all the way up to his shoulder. It was if the pack had swallowed it whole.

He wa
tched as his friend slowly gained confidence, Jared was now rummaging around, a look of extreme concentration plastered on his face. Suddenly his eyes widened and his hand came out in apparent victory, a strip of the very jerky the three of them had been eating only minutes before in his steely grasp. "Amazing, and useful to boot!" he exclaimed, turning the food around in his hands as if to check if it was truly real. He sniffed it suspiciously.