A Mage's Power (Journey to Chaos) (45 page)

He struck.

One moment he was four feet away and the next his dagger was
hilt deep in the orc's neck. He pulled it free and blood flowed from Tahart's
jugular vein. He plunged again and again and again; orcs had the tenacity of
monsters. Tahart fell to the carpet and his fall shook the room.

When he was sure the orc was dead, Eric's aura faded.
Videlicet Mens gave him the strength to save his friend, but now it was gone. Kneeling
and gasping for breath, he reached into his pack for Mana Juice. His strength
returned, but it could not help Annala. She had scurried to the opposite corner
during the struggle. Her knees were tucked up to her chest and her was head
buried against her legs. Her arms were still stuck behind her back. Her entire
body shook with sobs.

“Annala, are you alright!?” Eric asked urgently. She
flinched. He tried again but softer. “It's all right now, the orc's gone. He
can't hurt you anymore.”

 His Magic Sight was still activated. He'd forgotten to turn
it off and now it revealed something startling: two runes were on Annala's
gloves, two more on her stockings and a final three in the collar. All five
were far more complex than anything in the book and all of them were glowing.

Dengel, what are those?

Restraint runes.
The collar suppresses magecraft
and chokes the wearer upon command. The ones on her gloves and stockings snap
together upon command. All are spelled to prevent removal. In my day, they were
used in maximum security prisons and on the most dangerous of criminals.

It explained the waiver's generality. “ . . .harm of any
nature . . .” 
Give me a spell to break them!

There should be a password. Look on the desk.

Eric pulled out one drawer after another until he found
something: Annala's contract. It detailed her duties, pay, duration, and the
waiver at the bottom. On the other side were three phrases: “lock arms,” “lock
legs,” and “choke” with two words underneath each for activation and
deactivation. He recited them one by one and their runes faded. Annala still
didn't move.

Eric knelt at her side. “Annala . . . remember that time
Revas and Oito made Norej look like a chicken, then put an egg under his chair?
And how he'd jump every time someone clucked?”

Annala made a sound like a strangled cough and stopped
shaking.

“Or how about the song you taught me about the four levels
of chaos dilution?” He began to sing. “Mana is blanda, the lowest on the pole.
Next is energy of life, the ultimate living spice. After life is in the bowl .
. .” He trailed off.

Annala sniffed. “. . .you get soul.”

 Eric smiled and continued. “With soul on the dais . . .”

Annala looked up and smiled shakily. “You get chaos.” She
wiped her eyes and stood up. “Thanks, Eric . . . I needed that.”

Eric shrugged. “What are friends for? Oh yeah—” He reached
under his shirt and brought out the Black Cloak keystone. “I got you a souvenir
from my last adventure.”

There it was; the smile he loved so much. The forced smile
was replaced by a genuine one as she took the crystal in her hands. His older
brother was right: jewels really are a girl's best friend. “It's beautiful . .
. It must have cost a fortune!”

“Actually it was pretty cheap . . . a steal really.” Smiling
at his own joke, he asked, “Where'd you leave your clothes?”

“In the closet but first—” On her way to the desk, she
pulled a strap back over her shoulder.

With her gloved hand, she picked up a crystal cube that held
a black sphere. She pointed it at her legs and pushed a button, then the same
on her shoulders and chin. Tahart's handprint was still visible as a large red
welt.

“It's evidence . . . you . . . I . . .I don't want you to
get in trouble for protecting me.”

“Even if I do, it'll be worth it.” Eric said without
thinking. “It's what friends do!”

Annala blushed and looked away. “Right . . . what friends do
. . .”

Eric looked elsewhere. “So . . . once you get dressed . . . I'll
walk you home.”

Annala tugged on one ear. “Actually . . . can . . . can I
stay at your place? Just for tonight, I promise!”

“Uh . . . sure . . .stay as long as you like, but what about
your parents?”

“My parents live in another city.” She speed walked out of
the office. “I'm here on a study abroad program.”

Eric left Tahart's safe room and left him to rot. In the
closet, Annala picked up her clothes and waited. With a sudden reddening, Eric
realized she was waiting for him to leave. He left skid marks.

 While he waited, his eyes were drawn to his own clothes.
Tahart's blood was still fresh and dripping. It made his stomach churn. A water
spell invoking detergent and washing machines removed the worst, but light
brown stains remained.

I'll never get it all off . . . will I?

Are you asking me?

Myself mostly . . .

Do not concern yourself with the matter; orcs are
savages.

He was a person!

He was a savage person; a savage about to rape your
friend and eat you. She did nothing to provoke him and all you did was come to
her defense. He was an enemy. Do not regret his murder.

Aren't I supposed to? So I don't enjoy it?

Did you enjoy it?

Eric thought about it.
I enjoyed making him unable to
hurt Annala.

There! You have your answer. There is nothing wrong with
making your enemies unable to hurt you or companions. Why in my day—

The sound of a door closing broke him out of his thoughts.
Annala was back in casual clothes but the gloves, socks, and collar were still
attached. She held her elbow and looked away. The vulnerable gesture filled
Eric with anger.

“Do you know how to get these off?”

How do I break them?! Answer me!

If the runes are inscribed on the inside then it is
impossible. The article that would have to be removed in order for you to
physically destroy the rune is the one that is keeping her from removing it.

 Dengel was one of the founders of magic; the one who wrote
Introduction
to Magecraft
. If
he
said it was impossible . . . A pair of gloves
and pair of socks that tethered her hands and feet; a collar that choked her.
Annala
might die
making small talk!

“I was just reviewing the rune section of my book and the
method of breaking yours isn’t in there. We’ll have to go to the library.”

Annala nodded. “Eric . . . there's just one more thing . .
.”

 Tahart had offered him hush money and he accepted it;
haggled over the price. It horrified Eric and was clearly distressing for
Annala. She asked him why he did it and he explained what happened.

“It was . . . ah . . . your voice that . . .” He looked away
and scratched his burning neck. “Brought me back. I wanted to help you.”

“Oh . . .” Annala looked away again, her own cheeks pink. “Then
. . . what did I hear?”

Charismatic Eye. It is a projection of the user's
willpower, similar to Evil Eye. He used his willpower as a metaphorical crow
bar on the lid of your determination to save your friend. This crowbar
interferes with other mental functions, such as memory and sensory awareness.

This is what Eric told Annala.

“Makes sense, but we should do something about the bag.”

 Any moneybags with his fingerprints on them would look
suspicious next to a dead body. Annala rubbed Tahart's hand all over it to
smear the prints of her friend.

Your friend is sharp. Her clear thinking after a
traumatic event is impressive.

That's Annala.

Or maybe that is her way of coping . . .
Instead of
talking to Eric, he was musing to himself.
Yes . . .she handles the stress
by ignoring it and helping someone else . . .The camera too . . .Fascinating .
. .
Eric didn't like his friend being reduced to a puzzle so he tuned Dengel
out.

The pair walked side by side on the street. Annala even hung
off his arm. The move surprised him, but it felt really good . . .
It's just
the shock . . . she's scared and wants comfort . . .it's not really me . . .

“Eric, I read the paper today, and you wanna know what I
saw?”

“What?”

She poked his chest. “You. You and an article about Princess
Kasile’s rescue.”

“Oh that, yeah . . .” Eric’s neck started burning again. “It
was nothing really.”

“You’re so modest!” Annala said with a smile. “Just like in
class.”

“No, she escaped on her own!”

“Then why did the princess say she couldn’t have done it
without you?”

“Well . . . I did help . . . a little.”

Annala wouldn't drop the subject until he told her the whole
story. She was openly impressed with his battles in the sewer and applauded his
handling of the Black Cloaks. Eric felt so good about himself that he slipped
and told her about the stuff he stole.

“So
that’s
where you got such a beautiful necklace,”
Annala said while admiring it. “I
knew
a novice mercenary could never
afford something like this.”

“Well . . .” Eric said sheepishly. “I
did
say it was
a steal . . .”

By the time he finished his story, the library was in sight.
It looked like the Temple of Language because its clergy founded the library at
the same time. A popular joke called it their “practical temple.” The pair found
an unused card catalog and Eric made sure to exclude anything written by
Dengel, since “runes weren’t his specialty.” The greater mage was not amused.

From the library, Eric led her to the border between Red
Town and Orange Town, Cutlass Bridge. There weren't any houses nearby, so when
Annala asked, he pointed to a flight of stairs.

“You live under a bridge?” Annala asked. “Do you have a
troll for a roommate?”

“Not yet,” Eric muttered as he hesitantly dug for his key.
For the first time, he was embarrassed for his home. It wasn't made, or kept,
with the idea that it would entertain company. He laughed nervously as Annala
entered and inspected.

“It's not as bad as I thought; a teenage boy living the life
of a mercenary. I expected a mess.”

“If you want a mess, you should see Tiza's. I think she
tries
to make it messy.”

“She sounds fun to work with.”

Eric could only rub his forehead. “It's definitely not dull.”

His humble home was so humble it never expected guests.
There wasn’t even a place for Annala to sit. “Uhh . . . make yourself at home.
You're welcome to whatever’s in those bags.” Annala thanked him and picked one.
Reaching inside, she pulled out a beanbag bigger than the trash bag. She tilted
her head, then shrugged and sat on it

“Comfy. What are the odds I’ll find a rune remover?”

Eric shrugged. “The secrets of the universe are in there as
far as I know. I'm sure I'll find a way to get those things off by tomorrow.”

“All right . . . Eric . . . thanks . . .You were a true
friend today.”

“Hey, I wouldn't kill for anyone else.”

His attempt at humor failed miserably. He killed someone; a
murderer now. He sighed and sat down. For now, he needed to help Annala.

While he dove into the books, Annala
dove into the bags. First there was the beanbag . . . the exact thing she
needed. Then she pulled out books on runes . . . After finding more of the same,
she chose a different bag. This one had nothing but random junk.

Sorting the junk from the still useable items gave her
something to do. Her thoughts about the bags from earlier disappeared as she
found random items or useless junk. Soon she was bored. She'd much rather be
reading that novel she started the other day, but it was at home and she didn't
feel comfortable alone. She reached into a new bag and felt a book. It didn't
feel like a scholarly text. She pulled it out and gasped. It was the very novel
she was thinking about! She squealed in delight.

“Find something?” Eric asked, eyes glued to his current
text.

“Yep,” Annala said. She sat crossed legged on her beanbag
and opened the book.

The next morning, she awoke to an endearing sight. Eric was
asleep at his desk with a book as a pillow. Each and every other book they
checked out was stacked to either side. She tiptoed to his chair and gently
shook him.

“Stupid book . . .” Eric moaned in his sleep. “Useless . .
.” He shifted into a more comfortable position. Annala giggled and shook him
harder.

“Eric, wake up, it's morning.”

Eric rubbed his eyes. “Really? . . . I'm sorry, Annala, the
books didn't have—”

“I know.” Annala smiled again. “You were talking in your
sleep.”

“Oh . . .uh . . . ” Eric blushed and looked away. “Did I say
anything else?” Annala shook her head. “Well, I know another way.”

Hand in hand, they walked to the Dragon's Lair where Alf and
Meg were
still
hanging from the doorway. Even unconscious, they tried to
out snore each other. Eric parted their dangling feet like jungle vines and
guided Annala inside.

 Mia was missing. For the first time, Eric saw the front
desk without its perky receptionist. This worried him. Then he saw mercenaries
squeezed under the common table and dived for it just as a dozen cardboard
boxes flew out of nowhere. His huddled fellows said Basilard was downstairs and
he crawled out with Annala.

In the Training Hall, Tiza practiced a new battle dance and
Nolien treated a platypus' broken tail. When the fighter saw the couple, she
paused for a bout of teasing. Both human and elf blushed and let go of the
other's hand. Tiza chuckled and Nolien jerked in such a way that the Platypus
complained. Basilard sent her a warning glance and she continued practicing.

“Eric, where—”