Nature's Servant (9 page)

“
How’s it going to help?” Emea asked quizzically.

“
What do you mean?” he asked.

“
Well even if you cut a branch off to make whackers, you still have to pay a carpenter to have them made, and a cobbler to make the boots,” Emmy said.

“
I’m going to cheat,” he said. “Tomorrow, when I’ve recovered a bit, I’m going to grow some whackers right off the tree.”

“
You can do that?” Emmy asked, fascinated.

“
I can’t see why not,” he answered, “and there’s obviously no problem with seeds,” he said, indicating the heavy, polished-looking object hanging from the end of the lowest branch. “I’m gonna enchant something to cover the quad in ice too, so anyone can do it when I’m not here. I dunno about the boots though. Maybe the college will pay for it.”

“
Sounds like you’ve got it all sorted,” Emmy said with a smile, and kissed him on the cheek. She tugged on his arm. “Come on. Let’s get some breakfast,” she said, leading him reluctantly away from his tree, standing proudly in the dawn light.

…

The day before he was due to leave, Gaspi had Taurnil, Owein and Everand meet him in the quad. The boys found him in the corner of the quad by the tree, leaning on a waist high pillar of wood that was exactly the same colour as the tree itself, finished so smoothly it glowed as if finely polished. An unmarked wooden crate lay at his feet.

“What’s this all about Gasp?” Owein asked genially. Gaspi had pulled him and Everand away from a game of cards in the Warren, but they were both clearly curious and didn’t seem to mind the interruption.

“I think I’ve got it all sorted so you can play koshta while I’m away.”               “Awesome!” Everand said, grinning. “I knew you could do it.”

“I needed a bit of pushing, but anyway, here’s your enchanted device,” he said, slapping the top of the pillar next to him.

“How does it work?” Everand asked, eyeing it curiously.

“All you have to do is thread a little bit of power into it, and it does the rest for you.”

“Amazing,” Owein said, looking at the glowing pillar in awe.

“Let’s have a go,” Everand said, elbowing Owein out of the way as he stepped forwards.

“Sure,” Gaspi said, stepping away from the pillar. Everand lifted a hand and held it suspended over the enchanted pillar before lowering it down dramatically. Gaspi smirked. He’d come to like Everand over the last few weeks, but despite their newly-established peace, he couldn’t help laughing at the privileged boy’s unfailing pomposity. He never missed an opportunity to make a meal out of something, and as far as Gaspi was concerned, he looked like a right prat every time. Everand squared his shoulders and drew on his power. Gaspi could tell from the tingling behind his navel that he was drawing much more power than was necessary, but it wouldn’t matter. The device would do all the work anyway.

Sure enough, layers of mist began to form over the quad, freezing into fine skins of ice and lowering themselves to the ground. Within about a minute, the process was complete, and the quad was capped by a thick covering of ice.

“Excellent!” Owein said. “How do we undo it?”

“Same way,” Gaspi said, “but just touch the lower part of the device instead of the top.” The pillar was clearly divided in two by an inch-wide indentation, and Gaspi placed his hand on the section below the line to demonstrate. “You wanna try it Owein?”

“Sure,” the tall, blond boy answered, taking Everand’s place and pressing his palm against the part of the pillar Gaspi had indicated. With none of Everand’s theatrics, he sent a thin thread of power into the device, watching the quad intently as the ice melted away layer by layer until dry ground was exposed.

“This is great Gasp,” he said. “But what about whackers?

Gaspi nudged the crate besides him with the toe of his boot. “Grown right from the tree.” Everand bent down to remove the lid, and came up with a dark, polished length of koshta wood, with a flattened heel. A glance inside the crate told him that there were enough whackers for both teams in there.

“The seeds are in there too, and Taurnil has the ice-boots,” he said, anticipating their further questions. “My guardian, Jonn, paid for them out of his wages.”

“We’ll have to thank him then,” Owein said, taking the whacker from Everand and turning it over in his hands. “It might take us a while to learn,” he said. “We’ll just be stumbling round the ice to start with I guess.”

“I’m going to teach you,” Taurnil interjected, speaking for the first time. “After Gaspi’s gone, we’ll arrange some times when I’m not on duty.”

“Brilliant!” Everand enthused. “By the time you’re back, we’ll be able to give you a run for your money!”

“You can try,” Gaspi answered, grinning. “I reckon I’ll come back to find you’ve just about learned how to go in a straight line.”

…

Gaspi was filled with nervous energy on the day he was due to leave. He was excited about studying elemental magic, but he hated leaving Emmy behind. The last month had been great with her; it would be like leaving some crucial part of him behind. Taurnil and Lydia were still here in Helioport of course, so at least she’d have her friends, but he knew she’d miss him just as much as he missed her. He was the one who had the exciting new thing to do, but she would be left with life as she knew it, with a big part of it missing.

He was due to leave with Hephistole straight after breakfast, so there wasn’t much time for a lingering goodbye, but he figured that was no bad thing. He and Emmy had said all that needed to be said the previous night, and now that the time had come, he’d rather just get on with it. They met at Lydia’s room for breakfast, using the little kitchen in her corridor to cook up sausages and eggs, along with some toasted bread and a pot of coffee. Just as they were about to tuck in there was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” Lydia said, and Taurnil entered the room.

“I thought you were on duty,” Gaspi said.

“I begged Trask and he swapped my shift,” he said. “Couldn’t miss your farewell breakfast,” he said, sniffing the air hungrily.

Gaspi laughed. He knew Taurn would have wanted to say goodbye, but the promise of Lydia’s cooking was probably an equal draw.

“Sit down mate,” he said with a grin.

“It’s a good thing I made extra,” Lydia said, kissing Taurnil on the cheek as he plonked himself on her bed. Normally, anything Lydia cooked was consumed with involuntary noises of pleasure from everyone present, but apart from Taurnil, who ate with his usual relish, they consumed their food in silence. Gaspi could see just how hard Emmy was trying to put a brave face on it, and even Lydia seemed a little sad.

Taurnil finished his plate of food before anyone else and pushed it aside with a satisfied sigh. “Gonna miss you mate,” he said, stating in his simple, honest way what everyone else was avoiding talking about. Emmy gave a little sob and Gaspi put his arm around her.

“Me too,” Gaspi said. “Let’s not drag it out eh?” he said, glancing down at Emmy. Lydia shot Taurnil an exasperated glance.

“Right you are,” he said, looking sheepish.

“Sorry,” Emmy said with a sniffle. “I’m being stupid. Come on, let’s go down to the gate.”

Gaspi kissed the top of her head, blinking rapidly to dry up the tears that were starting in his eyes. They washed the plates and left Lydia’s room, heading down towards the city gate, where Gaspi had agreed to meet Hephistole. Gaspi wasn’t taking much with him. He’d be staying with Heath into the autumn but his enchanted cloak took care of the need for warm clothes, and Hephistole was going to bring food for the journey.

They made light conversation as they walked through the campus and down the long, spiralling road that cut through the city.

“How do you reckon you’ll travel?” Taurnil asked as they neared the gate.

“I dunno, but knowing Hephistole it could be anything!” Gaspi said. “Massive purple horses, floating rugs?” Taurnil chortled to himself.

To Taurnil’s disappointment, it turned out Hephistole had been entirely sensible. He was waiting for them at the gate, seated in an ordinary looking cart, drawn by two non-magical looking horses. “Gaspi!” he called out enthusiastically. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” he said, swinging his backpack up onto the seat. “Just give me a minute to say goodbye.”

“Of course,” Hephistole answered, and Gaspi turned back to his friends.

Taurnil shook his hand, eyeing him seriously. “Stay out of trouble,” he said.

“I will mate,” Gaspi answered.

Lydia kissed him on the cheek. “Take care Gaspi,” she said warmly, and stepped back, pulling Taurnil away so Gaspi could be alone with Emea.

Emmy looked up at him bravely, the expression on her pretty face vulnerable but determined. “I’ll miss you so much Gaspi,” she said, “but I want you to make the most of it and learn everything you can. Don’t waste time worrying about me. I’ll be fine.”

Gaspi smiled. “Thanks Emmy,” he said quietly. “I’ll miss you like crazy.” He felt the tears starting in his eyes again, and saw Emmy’s swim with moisture too. “I’d best go eh?” he said, kissing her quickly and pulling her into a tight hug.  He held her for a moment and stepped away, walking determinedly towards the cart. He clambered in besides Hephistole.

“Ready?” the chancellor asked gently. Gaspi just nodded, not trusting himself to sp
eak. Hephistole flicked the reins, clucking twice as he did so, and the cart lurched into motion. They passed through the gates, removing the temptation to look back, and emerged into the wide open plain.

Shirukai Sestin drew the last of the drapes shut, blocking out all light from the observatory’s large, curving windows and leaving himself only in faint, candlelit radiance. He had already checked the markings he’d chalked out on the floor twice, but when summoning demons, a third check was always a good idea. He carefully went over the arcane markings, making sure the lines bisected each other correctly, and that no part of any line was broken. Large candles were placed at every point where two lines crossed, and twelve more were spaced evenly in a wide circle around the pentagram’s edge.

Sestin stopped after his third check. Three checks were sensible, the fourth would be weakness. He breathed deeply, assessing his strength. Summoning was difficult, and the penalty for failure was the most horrible kind of death, but he was up to the task. He wouldn
’t have to be doing this at all if Hephistole hadn’t proved to be so damned resourceful. Summoning those ten Bale-beasts had taken just about all of his strength, and they had been completely destroyed. Destroyed! Just thinking about it made him furious.

Fortunately, the den-chief he
’d sent to lead the wargs had transported back and told him what had happened: Hephistole had discovered a Nature Mage, and that mage had been instrumental in Sestin’s defeat. He had thought long and hard about this Nature Mage. What were the chances that someone would be born with that ability for the first time in over two hundred years, just when he, Shirukai Sestin, was about to unleash hell on the magical world? It made him…uncertain, and uncertainty wasn’t something he could afford. He’d decided that he had to remove it from the equation as soon as possible. The Nature Mage was young and inexperienced - he could be killed.

So Sestin had changed his plans. He still intended to abduct his old pupil, Hephistole, and use him till he was a dried-up husk, draining off his power and storing it for his eventual plan, but first of all, there was the boy. He
’d killed the den-chief, of course. No-one, especially not a glorified dog, would be allowed to remember his failure, and after months of recovering his strength, he was ready to summon more Bale-beasts. He’d not send them to Helioport this time, which was well defended and expecting his attack. No, he’d send them north-east to the pagan tribes of the Eagle’s Roost mountains. Bale-beasts were feeders, designed to drain magical energy and store it in their bodies. If they drained enough they evolved into something else altogether; something much more sinister and deadly: A Darkman.

Sestin smiled greedily, a hungry light blossoming in his storm-grey eyes. A Darkman was the ultimate assassin, both demonic and corporeal, its touch destroying both the body and soul. Tireless and without remorse, it would seek its prey until its life was extinguished. If he could control a Darkman, he would send it after the Nature Mage.

Sestin turned his mind to the task at hand. It was time. Narrowing his focus, he began to chant. Though the words would be unintelligible to any person unlucky enough to overhear, they would know that every utterance was against nature, a discordant sound that ripped at the very fabric of existence. He continued in a low, guttural drone, the phrases oddly structured, halting and stuttering as if out of rhythm. Each malformed syllable widened that rip, rending what was right and normal and opening up a hole in space and time - a hole that led right into Hell.

The candles flickered and dimmed, and the sound of gale force winds tore about the room, though no breath of air actually stirred. A hole opened up in the air before him, widening second by second, and though nothing could yet be seen through it, no-one watching could have been in any doubt that the ultimate horror waited on the other side.