Spell Fade (31 page)

“We should stop for the night,” Alain said, breaking into Dartan’s train of thought. He had not paid much attention to the growing darkness, but realized now it wouldn’t be long before he would no longer be able to see the road at his feet. There were small trees and bushes around them, which would provide some cover, and he followed Alain off the road.

“How much further?”

“I suspect Jarel is in his castle, and is keeping Aliet there as well.” Dartan nodded his head, pleased Alain was thinking of Aliet. It meant he wouldn’t have to remind Alain that she was his first priority.

“So,” Alain continued as he performed some quick math in his head. “We should be a few hours from Jarel City, and then his castle lies on the far side of it.”

“Jarel City?” Dartan was unable to suppress the laugh.

“Yes, well, you do remember our conversation about the relationship between power and ego, right?” Dartan nodded. “Perfect example. Sometimes it doesn’t result in death, just embarrassment.”

Dartan laughed to himself as he gathered wood for the fire. The spark leapt from his hand effortlessly, and he thought about Alain. He had only known about magic for a month, but here was a man who had lived with it so long, he couldn’t live a life without it.

“What would you have done?” Dartan asked.

“About what?”

“The guards on the trail.” It had been bothering him all day. “Surely you would have had a magical solution. So, what would you have done?”

“Invisibility,” Alain replied without hesitation. Dartan nodded, grunted his agreement, then leaned back and started trying to work out exactly how it could be accomplished. He got stuck almost immediately.

“You’re not going to be able to urge the light to not reflect off of you,” Alain offered to a slightly frustrated Dartan. It was already something he had thought of and discounted.

“Likewise, you can’t convince the eye it didn’t see something either.” Alain was genuinely trying to be helpful, but Dartan was struggling not to hear condescension. Several minutes passed in silence before Dartan finally relented.

“What else is there?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“You,” Alain stated simply, but Dartan didn’t follow. “You’ve spent weeks learning to listen to the wants and desires of everything around you, but you’ve neglected to listen to your own.”

Dartan nodded, though still unsure. “So … invisibility?”

“Because you want to be.”

Dartan smiled at that answer. What would it be like to cast a ‘because I want it’ spell? Perhaps sensing his thoughts, Alain warned, “Careful with it though. That kind of magic takes a lot of power, and can leave you vulnerable.” Dartan nodded his understanding, but was already trying to listen in on his own stream of desires.

“One more thing,” Alain added. “Too much ‘me’ magic will lead to bizarre behavior.”

Dartan immediately stopped trying to hear himself and leaned in to whisper, “Like what?”

Alain looked around, leaned in himself, and said, “Well, things like naming cities after yourself.” He grinned at Dartan, who could reply only with a laugh.

Chapter Thirty

Jarel City was empty. Dartan wouldn’t necessarily say abandoned, because everything seemed used but maintained. The streets were worn but clean, buildings closed and bolted, but not crumbling. They even walked through what should have been a busy marketplace, but its stalls were silent.

Where was everybody? It was a recurring question for him all day. It first popped into his head when their path crossed the Northern Road.

Earlier that morning, the cart path they had been following dropped them directly onto the main passage through the Northern Kingdom. Despite that fact, the Northern Road was empty. The road ran through the middle of a mile wide valley, which ran straight through the northern mountain range. Seeing such an obviously well-travelled and important road completely empty was more than just a little unnerving.

“This valley was formed by the movement of a very slow and very large glacier over a million years ago,” Alain said, mistaking Dartan’s nervous glances around for interest in the valley’s size.

“Really?” Dartan replied with raised eyebrows. “And did you witness the entire journey?”

“Very nearly,” he replied, unamused.

They travelled the remainder of the road in silence, until reaching the beginning of that glacial journey begun so long ago. Jarel City (it was still hard not to laugh) lay at the head of the valley, surrounded on three sides by mountains. Beyond the city, carved directly into the mountainside, stood Jarel’s castle. Castle Jarel, maybe? He made a note to ask Alain later. Spikes atop its tallest towers pointed like spears towards the heavens, but were dwarfed by the mountain peaks behind.

“Honestly, I expected a little more resistance,” Dartan observed from his vantage point in the middle of the silent city.

“As did I,” replied Alain. “Wait here,” he said, then disappeared.

“Sure, I’ll just stand here and talk to myself then,” Dartan said, peering around at the darkened and shuttered windows surrounding him. “Not that it would look much different than when I’m talking to you to anyone that might be watching.”

He couldn’t see or hear anything unusual, but there was no denying the feeling. He was being watched. Every pore in his body felt it, every hair stood on end, screaming it out. He didn’t have to listen to hear his own desires now. They were being made very clear. He wanted out of this place.

“There are guards at the castle gates,” Alain appeared in front of Dartan and announced.

“OK!” Dartan managed to turn his scream of surprise into something passing for a word. He cleared his throat and asked, “How many?”

“Just two,” Alain answered, eyeing Dartan up and down. “Are you alright?”

“Of course,” Dartan answered. “Just wishing again that Logan was here.”

“Yes, well that would even the odds, I suppose. However, he has his own mission, and considering we have yet to be attacked by a dragon, I’d wager he has it well under control.” Dartan nodded even as he eyed the skies. “Still, you should be able to handle the guards on your own. It appeared as though they may even be sleeping.”

“An empty city, two guards at the castle gate, and they’re sleeping?!” Dartan wanted to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. He also wanted to see if it all sounded as ridiculous when spoken aloud as it did in his head. It did. “Explain to me again how he has remained a threat to Pavlora for so long.”

“The Queen forbade it. No one was allowed to invade or encroach upon the Northern Kingdom’s territory.”

“And after her death?”

“A promise kept in honor of her memory.”

“And now he’s our problem?” He regretted it as soon as it left his mouth. It was not only the Queen he was questioning, but also his mother, and straight to the face of his father.

“She had her reasons,” Alain answered, resuming his stone-faced demeanor. It made Dartan even more uneasy. “Do not presume to know the reasons for her actions.” A brief flash of anger touched his eyes as he warned, “And do not make me regret my own.”

Dartan nodded his head, but did not lower his eyes. He did not mean to disrespect his mother or her decisions, but he still felt it was a fair argument, especially considering their current circumstances. When Alain spoke again his voice was soft and even, all trace of anger gone.

“When you become King you will be able to make your own decisions about such things,” Alain explained. “However, you must learn to balance acting swiftly and decisively with acting justly and wisely. Neglect the first two and you will appear weak and vulnerable. Without the second two, you will be cruel and foolish. It is the great King who can temper these together into one action.”

“Don’t you mean
if
I become King?” Dartan said, his eyes on the imposing castle.

“No. I said what I mean, and I said
when
.” He turned to face the castle as well. “Now, let’s go.”

The guards were definitely asleep. Judging by the number of empty bottles scattered about them, Dartan thought a more precise description might be ‘passed out’. Regardless, he saw no sense in rushing down to the front gates.

Dartan studied the few openings in the walls that passed for windows, looking for any sign of movement. Alain searched the grounds for any hidden guards. After a few minutes both men were sure they were alone with the unconscious guards.

“You realize this is a trap, don’t you?” Dartan asked.

“Of course I do,” Alain answered with a small snap of irritation. “But I see no way of figuring out what it is without springing it. Do you?”

Dartan shook his head. “I just hope we can get out of it without having to chew something off.” Alain gave him a small frown, which he ignored. “After you, my faithful guide,” he said with a bow and wave of his hand. Alain passed by without a word.

The guards didn’t stir as they stepped over them, and no hidden army came pouring out as they crossed the stone bridge to the entrance. They passed through the outer walls into an empty courtyard, where a path led towards a set of tall stone doors. The doors stood open, but Dartan could see nothing past the gloom inside them. The feeling of being watched fell upon him again, but he had yet to see any sign of movement anywhere.

As they approached the doors, Dartan could make out a few steps, and a dimly lit hall beyond. Pausing only slightly for one last glance behind them, they ducked through the doors, and down the hall.

Once inside Dartan expected the feeling of being watched to subside, attributing it to being exposed in the open. He was wrong. If anything, it grew stronger within the enclosed corridors, and he was finding it harder to ignore.

By the sixth turn Dartan realized he was utterly and completely lost. “Do you know where you’re going?” he whispered loudly.

“Of course,” Alain answered with barely a backwards glance. He then made two immediate rights and stopped abruptly. Dartan nearly crashed into him, or through him, whichever may happen with a magically produced mental image. Actually, he’d rather not think about it.

“Why have we stopped?”

“Shh!” Alain held his hand out to quiet Dartan, and listened.

Dartan heard nothing. “You do know the way to the dungeons, right?”

“Dungeons?” Alain looked quizzically at Dartan. “Yes, of course, but why would we want to go to the dungeons?”

“For Aliet.” Dartan considered testing the physical nature of Alain by trying to give him a solid shaking, but decided it would most likely be more frustrating than satisfying. “She’s what we’re here for first,” he reminded him instead.

“She won’t be in the dungeon,” Alain said with a small shake of his head. “What good would she be to Jarel down there? No, he’ll have her close to him.” He cocked his head to the side slightly. “Now, be quiet.”

Dartan did hear something now. Footsteps. The heavy clank of armor covered guards echoed down the hallways in such a way that Dartan was having a hard time pinpointing them.

“Be still!” Alain commanded as Dartan realized he was pacing back and forth, trying to track the steps. His face reddened and he froze in place, listening as the steps drew near.

They passed by one corridor away. As the steps retreated, Alain moved on without a word and Dartan followed. The next time Alain stopped, Dartan remained silent and still. It wasn’t long before he heard footsteps again. The same ones? He couldn’t be sure, and he dared not ask.

These too passed close by, and Alain shot forward before their echoes had completely died. There were several more turns, but no more encounters, before Alain finally stopped in front of a pair of ornately carved, wooden doors.

“Don’t talk, just listen,” he instructed and Dartan nodded. “Beyond these doors lies Jarel’s throne room. I have no idea what we’ll find upon entering it, but I need you to be ready. It could be empty, or it could be filled with as many guards as it can hold. Whatever it might be, you must remain calm.” Dartan looked into the cold eyes of the wizard and nodded, drawing strength from the calm he saw there. He then focused on the door, steadied himself, and reached for the handle.

“One more thing,” Alain said, halting Dartan’s hand. “Aliet. She may be restrained, bruised, beaten, or her blood may even be painted across the walls.” Dartan felt the calm drain from his body as he turned back slowly, eyes wide. “Or not,” Alain added with a shrug. “Regardless, you must remain in control. Magic powered by emotion is very strong, but also unpredictable and unfocused.”

Dartan looked back at the door, then down at his outstretched hand, uncertain. He couldn’t let his mind linger on any of the possibilities Alain mentioned for more than a few seconds without feeling like running into the room with hands ablaze. He closed his eyes, breathed deep, and thought of home.

It seemed so long ago now since he was there. The warm barn, filled with the smell of hay, and sunlight shining down on Aliet in the loft. He could hear her laugh and feel her light touch on his arm. How could he have ever not known his own feelings for her? Whatever lay beyond that door, he had to face it to get back to her. His mind eased, he opened his eyes, and focused on the door.

It normally remained open. Day after day, season upon season, year following year, it saw a steady stream of traffic in and out. Yet, now it was closed. That door wanted to be open. The hinges nearly screamed out to be swung, and even the stone yearned for the familiar weight of the doors upon it. With only the slightest touch of power, the doors happily parted, and fell open to rest against the waiting walls.

With anxious eyes, Dartan peered into the throne room and saw – an empty room. No waiting guards. No recent redecorating with bodily fluids. The only thing he did see clearly was a fire in the middle of the room.

Dartan released the breath he had been holding, and lowered his head for a moment. He looked back at Alain with raised eyebrows, to which Alain merely shrugged. Dartan turned back slowly and nearly dropped his sword when he heard a voice from inside the room.

“Honestly, I was beginning to think Roal really had killed you.” It came from the far side of the room, but Dartan couldn’t see anything beyond the fire. He looked back at Alain.