Have 2 Sky Magic (Haven Series 2) (25 page)

Still eyeing the craft, she smiled and gave her head a tiny shake. “You do,” she said quietly. She lifted her head up and gave him a tiny kiss.

Brand decided that, live or die this day, he would remember her kiss to his last moments.

The sails suddenly caught the wind and tugged. Brand wondered that the breeze should be so strong and steady and going in the right direction. He supposed he should not have wondered about good sailing conditions when sitting in a ship magically formed from a fallen tree.

The merlings, miserable in their smashed town, watched them leave without molesting them. Brand felt sorry for them, caught up as they were in a conflict which most of them probably had no knowledge of. So many of their homes were smashed and so many of their people dead. He resolved that, should he somehow have a hand in reforging a new Pact with Faerie, the merlings should be part of it. For too long men and merlings had hunted one another in a silent war. Too many babies had been stolen, pelts taken and eggs smashed.

He turned then to see that Telyn was studying his face.

“You feel for them, don’t you?” she asked.

Brand nodded. “I can’t help but think of when I gazed down into one of their homes, about to kill a female and her young. Who was the monster at that moment?”

Telyn nodded, still looking at him.

“Any creature that protects its young and builds a town shouldn’t be hunted as an animal,” he said.

She gave his hand a squeeze, and it felt almost as good as the kiss had.

“Well, I don’t suppose my opinion counts for much,” he said. “The rest of the River Folk will take some convincing.”

Telyn gave him another squeeze. “If anyone can do it, you can.”

Sailing out of the ruined town, Brand felt good to be on the water again. A shifting deck under his feet and clean water all around felt like home to him. Fresh rain washed the sweat, grime and trials of the last few days from his face. Soon, however, he began to become alarmed as they picked up speed. The boat’s hull was furling back water like a cast spear.

“Are we caught in rapids?” he asked Corbin.

“No, the water is swift and deep, but not so that it could possibly account for this speed,” he replied. “I don’t understand it, but it must be Myrrdin’s doing.”

They looked to Myrrdin, who stood at the prow, his arms wrapped around his staff-turned-mast and his intent gaze directed ahead.

“Myrrdin!” cried Brand over the rising winds. “What if we hit something, man! We’ll go over in a thrice!”

Myrrdin shouted something back, but the wind carried it off.

Brand climbed past Modi’s bulk. The warrior glared at him, unhappy as usual to be in another damnable boat. He reached up to grasp Myrrdin’s shoulder. During the time it took to traverse the length of the craft their speed had increased nearly two-fold. Looking to the shore, Brand suspected that they moved faster than a horse could gallop.

“Myrrdin! Have you gone mad, man!” he shouted into his ear.

Keeping his eyes on the water ahead, Myrrdin simply uncrooked a finger, the rest of which he kept tightly upon his staff, and pointed ahead.

Brand’s eyes followed the finger and ahead of them he saw the towering form of the Rainbow ahead. They were gaining on it, slowly.

Brand shook his head and sat back down on the bark-covered benches that had grown so fortuitously for human backsides to sit upon. Normally at home in any craft, he felt out of his league now. He looked over the side and marveled at the pace with which the water was pushed from the tapered prow. Never had he seen a boat move half as fast, excepting perhaps a canoe that fell over a waterfall in the spring floods. He reflected that after the breaking of the Pact magic had become commonplace around him. He wondered if it had always been abundant, but hidden, just beneath the river’s surface or inches beyond the borders of the Haven.

The chase went on for some time. The Rainbow seemed tireless, as did the huntsmen. Slowly, they did gain. Brand wondered what they would do if they caught up with the hunters. As they drew closer to the fleeing Rainbow, the storm grew worse again. Soon the rainfall was so great that they had to bail to keep the vessel riding lightly on the water’s surface.

Then, without warning, the Rainbow stumbled and fell. They were not close enough to see why, but now that it had stopped running, they caught up very quickly. In moments the circling horsemen could be seen, then the darting Wee Folk, some of whom had the audacity to take wild leaps over the fallen shimmering form. Although it had fallen, the Rainbow still flailed about at its attackers. Brand saw one of the Wee Folk miscalculate and get caught by a sweeping hand. The tiny figure flew off into the river like a swatted insect. The huntsmen charged in, thrusting home their boarspears and hacking fearlessly with their broadswords. Brand wondered if they had ever faced a larger, more terrifying foe. He shivered to think that perhaps, sometime in their centuries-long existence, they had.

Finally, the Rainbow ceased its struggles. It lay half in the river and half on the fetid land of the swamp. Myrrdin slowed their craft as they approached the scene.

“We are too late,” said Corbin behind Brand. “We can’t fight all the Wild Hunt for the Jewel. They have captured Lavatis at last.”

As the Rainbow died, its shimmering form, never entirely substantial to begin with, began to melt and fade. Runnels of bright color flowed away from it to form glistening puddles that slowly darkened. Brand saw Herla, his stag head towering over the others, trot his horse up to the melting creature and begin hacking at the great belly. All around him and the dissolving corpse the Wee Folk pranced and cavorted, like hunting dogs baying and worrying the fallen prey.

Reminding Brand of a snowman under a steady stream of hot water, the Rainbow melted quickly. The storm clouds overhead stopped their pelting downpour and slowed to a light drizzle.

A shout went up from the Huntsmen. Brand knew that they had found the Jewel. His heart sank. He had hoped it might be lost somehow in the river.

Herla turned then and his lavender eyes fell upon Brand and his companions. His dead horse raised a hoof and scraped the ground. Brand knew dread as he met his enemy’s eyes. With a certainty beyond any he had ever known, Brand realized that the Wild Hunt would pursue him next, for his Jewel, and Myrrdin for his. Soon, he would be as dead and forlorn as the melting Rainbow.

We must fight!

Brand despaired. At any moment Herla would raise his fist aloft and claim another of the Jewels of Power. The axe upon his back twitched.

Have we no stomach for battle?

Herla was poking about for the Jewel now, having dug a hole into the shimmering guts of the creature. It was time to face him now, before he could master a second Jewel. Brand knew the truth of it. His only hope lay in the power and the sharpness of the axe that rode his back.

“Brand, look!” said Telyn.

Brand’s hand reached up for the axe. Something grabbed his wrist. He twisted and snarled, expecting to see Herla’s lavender eyes burning down into his. Instead he found Corbin holding to his wrist with both hands. Corbin shook his head. Brand’s other hand formed into a fist.

“Brand, it’s Tomkin!” said Telyn again, tugging at him. “Look, he’s running away with something!”

Brand blinked in confusion. Telyn’s voice somehow dug through the haze in his mind and he saw Corbin again.

“Sorry,” he said to Corbin.

“No problem, cousin,” said Corbin, releasing his grip. Brand realized that he needed his friends, badly.

He gazed the way Telyn was frantically indicating. One of the Wee Folk, perhaps Tomkin, perhaps not, was bounding way into the swamp, away from the rest of the hunters.

Moments later, Herla shouted something to his fellows. They circled and pointed in various directions. Some of them pointed to Brand and his party, but most pointed after Tomkin.

The entire company was relieved to see the Wild Hunt launch into pursuit again, this time charging after the manling that had deserted them.

“Could it have been Tomkin?” asked Telyn.

“More importantly, could he have stolen Lavatis?” asked Myrrdin. “I felt no shift of power, I believe Herla didn’t get the Jewel.”

“If he had, he would have come after us,” said Brand.

Myrrdin looked at him. “Yes, I believe you are right. Let’s sail to the scene.”

The craft moved forward again. Soon they beached the boat alongside the last shimmering, melting fragments of the Rainbow. Telyn was the first to jump out of the boat. She immediately grabbed up a handful of the Rainbow’s fading flesh.

“It feels odd,” she said. Brilliant colored liquids ran over her hand and dripped down to the ground where they glowed for a moment before disappearing. “It’s almost as if you have nothing in your hands. It’s like a wad of smooth, fleshy cotton.”

Brand ignored the glimmering remains and sought with the others for some sign of the Jewel. They found Dando’s body instead. The tiny, twisted form was burnt and mangled.

Thinking him dead, Brand lifted the manling and laid him upon a dry grassy spot. He was shocked to see one eye flutter open.

“Dando lives!” he told the others, and they gathered around.

Dando managed a crooked smile. “Not for long, I fear,” he coughed, “tell me of the Jewel.”

“It’s gone,” Brand told him.

The last of his strength seemed to ebb from Dando at the news. He closed his eyes and Brand suspected he would never open them again.

“Pity,” he rasped, “such a lovely thing. I had dreams of treating with you, Brand. Like my folk, your people have lived for so long as nothing, as slaves and fools for greater folk.”

“Perhaps your dreams will yet come true, Dando,” said Brand, “this struggle is not yet over.”

Dando smiled, managed a slight nod, then died.

“He looks like a broken doll,” said Brand. “How do you suppose he lived so long inside the creature’s belly?”

“The Wee Folk are hard to kill,” said Gudrin. “Interesting for one of his kind to have such a grand design. He was unusual for one of the Wee Ones.”

She took out her Teret and made a sign over it and Dando’s corpse. “I am saddened to see one who has lived so very long lying in death.”

“The question now is, what do we do next?” asked Corbin.

“I think Tomkin has the Jewel,” said Telyn.

Brand looked at her. “Yes, and we must follow him.”

“But where would he go?” asked Telyn.

Brand knew in an instant. He believed that he now knew how the Wee Folk thought. It  was always in terms of clever trickery. “Castle Rabing. Where Herla’s huntsmen couldn’t follow. I suggest we go there in any case, as we will be safe there to rest and think.”

“But that’s on the other side of the river,” objected Gudrin, “he ran off into the swamp on this side.”

“Never underestimate the trickery of the Wee Folk,” said Brand, “I’d bet he’s planning on doubling back on them like a fox and taking refuge in the castle.”

Gudrin frowned at being lectured to by a stripling, but she nodded in agreement.

Myrrdin beamed at him proudly. He slapped him on the back. “I never could have taught you so much in so few days. The world has done my work for me.”

“Anything that involves a rest sounds like an excellent plan,” said Corbin, “I, for one, could use a fully cooked meal.”

As they all tumbled back into Myrrdin’s magical craft to cross the river, Corbin approached Brand. “Tomkin? Castle Rabing? Clearly, we must have a talk, Brand.”

Brand grinned. “We have much to discuss,” he agreed.

End of
Sky Magic

BONUS Excerpt:

SHADOW MAGIC

(Haven Series #3)

by

B. V. Larson

Translated from the
Teret,
the compendium of Kindred wisdom:

I will begin by pointing out that magic, in all its forms, is the greatest mover of land and folk alike in our world. The history of magic in Cmyru, and in all of greater Albion, seems ever to twist and turn. But always it returns to the omnipresent themes of color and light. Digging deeper, the hooded scholarly Talespinners of Snowdon, Cardiff and Harlech come almost without fail to the bedrock legends of the Jewels of Power. Each of the Jewels harness a flavor of magic in a pure form, split apart from the others into the variety of hues that now exist.

Having established that most magic has at its source one or another of the colored Jewels, the next question is clear: From whence came the Jewels themselves? There are two legends that are most often quoted to answer this question. The version ascribed to by the Kindred, of course, involves the demise of the Sun Dragon. According to our legends, the Sun Dragon spawned nine lesser dragons which devoured their parent for the power the elder possessed. These young dragons fought for choice bits of the Sun Dragon, but each only managed to eat a portion, thus giving them specific powers. Over time, these foul dragons were each hunted down and slain by heroes of old. When their bodies rotted away, their bodies decomposed except for one jewel, the lens of each dragon’s left eye. These came to be known as the Nine Eyes, or Nine Jewels, and each possesses the power of the original dragon.