CHAPTER 18

“Well that’s how I’ve always done it! And it says right here in the spell tome that the word is pronounced ‘Salvire’ so I don’t know what you think the difference is.”

“Tell Brooke I practically wrote that spell tome! And as its author, I am telling her she is wrong.” Epictus snapped.

Ventas valiantly ignored the divine’s snide remark and let the girls go about their business. He sat a good distance back from them with his back against the crabapple tree they were camped under, and he held one of the spell tomes Birdie borrowed from Cedar in his hands. He was supposed to be acting as a reference to the book while the girls practiced magic, but Epictus was using the boy’s inability to say no as a way to goad Brooke into frustration. Birdie was stubborn enough to ignore the divine’s pesky remarks as he made constant corrections and suggestions, but Ventas wasn’t quite thick-skinned enough to resist. Much to their chagrin, the divine had a lot to say whenever it came to spell-craft, and this was a particularly difficult evening for focus.

It was their eighth day out from the City of Trees, and they were breaking early in favor of using the remaining daylight to practice magic. As Birdie feared, this session was following the same course as all of their other bouts of evening learning. As always, it only took Brooke and Epictus five minutes of instruction before they were at each other's throats, which meant it was only a matter of time before someone gave up and Birdie would be left to practice on her own.

Despite the turbulent instruction, Birdie was coming along steadily with the new spells she was learning. She was already showing proficiency in channeling magical projectiles and creating light, and had come a long way in the creation and manipulation of fire. It made her feel great to see such steady progress, but she really wished everyone else would get it together; she could only imagine how much further along she could be if she had consistent guidance.

Looking back at her past, the insane amount of effort it used to take for her to summon so much as a candle light seemed pathetic in comparison to where she was now. She and Gabriel used to spend hours sitting before a cold candle, screwing up their faces and trying all manner of silly tactics to reinforce their intentions just to produce a feeble little fire. She almost felt sad thinking about it now as she stood at the crown of this grassy hill and pulled magic from within herself with the same ease it took her to snap her fingers, and it only got easier and easier every day…

Gabriel used power back in the clearing that was so intense that it managed to knock her off of her feet several times. Plus, he’d used some sort of spell to confound and control the hunters and Cedar simultaneously. That had to take an insane amount of skill… Had he always been able to use magic? Were their silly practice sessions all a lie, or had it been the divine in Coastlund working through him to perform such incredible feats of power back in the clearing?

It made her sick just to think about, and she tried to stave off the curdling feeling of betrayal that arose in her chest every time the notion crossed her mind, but the thought still made her shiver. In turn, the ward she was practicing sputtered just in time for Brooke to throw an apple clean through it.

“Ouch!” She yipped as the fruit smacked into her chin.

“I’m telling you Birdie. Try my spell! It’s much easier to master and works just as well.” Brooke lobbed another apple mercilessly, and Birdie had to duck as she hadn’t summoned a new ward yet.

“She’s wrong.” Epictus argued, “My spell is better because it is harder to master. Birdie shouldn’t settle for a weak spell just because it’s easier to produce. That is a good way to stagnate and become a second rate sorcerer… something Brooke is at a risk of becoming if she keeps ignoring my advice.”

“Your spell is great Brooke!” Ventas sighed, “He’s not saying it doesn’t work, he just says that using his spell produces a ward that works against heavier threats.”

Ventas spoke as if he was pleading for his life. He looked to Birdie for support, but she kept her mouth shut, focusing instead on sustaining the tricky ward before her as Brooke lobbed another two apples at her in increasing frustration. As she held the shield of power against the barrage of wormy fruit, she could feel the magic running out of her, like blood shooting through veins that ended at her fingertips. It made her hands feel cold, and she was having a hard time maintaining strong mind-body connection, making the shield sputter.

“If his spell is so much better, then explain why it keeps doing that.” Brooke said in frustration. Birdie tried not to feel wounded at how personally the girl seemed to be taking her struggle.

“It’s the power output.” Epictus said knowingly in her ear. “Stop being afraid of it Birdie. It’s not going to blow up in your face.”

“It might!” Birdie argued, flinching as Brooke sent a mushy apple through her pathetic ward that splatted against her chestplate.

“True, some spells do not respond well to being fed too much power. But much like a muscle, the more you channel power through a spell, the better you will be at maintaining its structural integrity. When it comes to magic, I would recommend you practice at a higher output.”

“Fine.” Birdie focused her intention on the power streaming from her fingertips, and in a fit of annoyance she upped her output to a ridiculous amount. The Ward solidified momentarily before sputtering out with a snap and a flash of light.

“Grrrr! It is so chaotic! One second it needs more, the next second it has too much- where is the consistency?”

“Don’t get testy!” Epictus scolded as Birdie summoned the shield again.

“Your emotional state can affect your inhibitions. In practice, with low stress and stakes, you are not drawing power like you would be while fighting for your life against horrors beyond your comprehension. When mages are desperate, they tend to get greedy. Might as well be prepared to chew whatever you bite off in the anguish of the moment.”

Birdie nodded, still a bit reluctant to admit that his teaching actually made a lot of sense.

“Okay, I understand.”

“What is he saying?” Brooke asked Ventas shortly.

“He’s telling her to try using more power to solidify her ward, but to keep it at a steady, heavy output.” Ventas summarized.

“Hmph! Well, I don’t want her to overdo it. That’s a good way to waste her power stores and it runs the risk of blowing up in her face.”

Ventas looked between Birdie and Brooke with the air of a disapproving parent, but this time he kept his mouth shut when he saw the look on the latter’s face.

Birdie hadn’t figured out a way to tell Brooke yet that she didn’t have magical stores- that the ability to summon magic was just built into her. She was afraid that if Brooke learned too much about Birdie’s potential that the girl would resent her for dragging her along. But then again, Birdie was pretty sure she already did resent her.

Brooke caught on pretty quickly that Epictus was somehow communicating with them through Ventas, and ever since, she had been acting strange. At first she was excited, wanting to know more about the logistics of the spell that allowed him to talk to them over a long distance. Birdie and Ventas played relay enthusiastically, and everything seemed fine. In fact, Birdie had enjoyed it. It gave them something to talk about and beat the crippling silence they hiked in for almost their entire first morning.

Then, on the evening of their first day in the woods, Birdie made the mistake of asking for help with a healing spell for a blister on her ankle. She realized then that when Brooke had said that she was excited to teach Birdie how to use magic, that neither of them had anticipated that they would have a very… opinionated, master mage looking over their shoulders.

"Knowing your limit as a mage is essential for safe spell execution. Start small so you minimize the risk of hurting yourself!" Brooke lectured, throwing another apple.

“Cute.” Epictus patronized, evidently every bit as annoyed as Brooke was.

“Just do as I say Birdie, you will be fine.”

More willing to face Brooke’s wrath than the being who currently had a direct line into her brain, Birdie did as she was told, and Brooke let an apple fly. It soared wildly over Birdie’s shoulder, high and to the left, missing her thick ward completely. The Champion huffed in frustration, placing her hands on her hips and rounding on Ventas.

“What on earth could she be protecting herself from that needs a thick ward and this much power? Falling boulders? A ward doesn’t need to be that thick! I am saying that the wide ward I use is way more practical for the type of conflict we will most likely encounter. It covers more area, and doesn’t burn through nearly as much magic!”

“I can just learn both,” Birdie muttered, lowering her hands and watching her thick ward dissipate- a total waste of the spell.

“I think that’s a great idea,” Ventas agreed hastily, “I don’t see why you have to pick one or the other. The divine is just saying it would be good for her to learn because a thick ward is the only type of magical shield that can STOP a projectile of power. Your thin ward will just dampen it.”

Birdie was keeping her mouth shut for more than one reason. Firstly, she didn’t want to get dragged into this like Ventas. She had actually found herself feeling bad for the boy when Brooke really got into it with Epictus, and Ventas had to act at the mouth piece.

Secondly, if she opened her mouth too much it would most definitely fill with the sting of magic, and she didn’t feel like skewing her taste right before dinner, which she set out to prepare, seeing as her practice session was quickly devolving into an argument.

Epictu’s voice rang out in her ear as she walked to her bedroll and sat down, pulling her pack over to rummage for a jar of honey for the pile of little green apples she gathered when they first chose to set up camp earlier.

“Tell Brooke that it is better to master a cantrip that can be used in a wide variety of situations than to just be okay at a ton of spells. In a pinch, you should be able to act instinctively. Only an idiot would stuff his brain with thousands of redundant spells only to be slowed down deciding what to use while your enemy is raining arrows down at your head. Tell her that! Word for word!”

“No!” Ventas groaned indignantly, finally having enough. “You’re both being ridiculous, I’m not telling her that!”

“Telling me what?” Brooke asked dangerously, her curly hair sticking out in wisps from her bun she rounded on him, her cheeks pink from sweat and anger.

“Nothing!”

“Tell her.” Epictus demanded.

“No,” He snapped the book shut and handed it to Brooke, who snatched it from him. Ventas clamped his hand over his mismatched eye and flopping back on his own bedroll.

“I am tired of this. Birdie can be your mouthpiece, it’s her turn.”

“Leave me out of this.” She mumbled, holding her knife in her teeth as she tried to pry the lid off of her jar.

“Coward.” Epictus scorned.

The honey jar stuck tight and she sighed in exasperation, setting it aside and freeing her knife from her teeth.

“Brooke, he is saying that I should try to master one spell and make it a habit to use so I am not caught in indecision when I need to summon a defense fast.”

“Well,” Brooke looked like she was really working to find a counter argument but wasn't having any luck with it.

“Whatever. I am going to go find some firewood. We can practice magic later.” She took off down the steep grassy hill towards the distant grove of trees at the bottom, tossing her spell tome from her hand to Birdie’s feet.

“Don’t go too far!” Ventas called, unable to hide the worry from his voice as he lifted his head to watch her.

Brooke just waved him off as she stomped down the hill, tying her cloak around her hips as she went.

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“She will be fine,” Birdie said dismissively, slicing her apples in symmetrical wedges that she laid out on her handkerchief. “We are close enough to divine territory that nothing will try to attack us. Plus I think she could use the chance to blow off some steam.”

“It’s not her fault. You brought her here to teach you magic and you spend more time listening to Epictus than her. Speaking of, I wish you would tone it down with the coaching,” he complained, kneading his eye.

“It’s not my fault that Birdie undermined me.” Epictus pouted. “She went and brought a teacher along when I- an expert- was already fully prepared to train her. Of course Brooke and I are butting heads! Two roosters in the hen-house and Birdie knows which one is the obvious leader. She’s hurting Brooke’s feelings.”

“Hey, I’m a rooster,” Ventas protested quietly.

“Hardly.”

Birdie laughed with Epictus at the look on Ventas’s face.

“I need you both as teachers! Epictus, you have a ton of knowledge and insight as an expert, and Brooke is really good at demonstration. I am a visual learner! You can only do so much using just verbal instructions…”

Brooke knew magic, but because of their differences in limitations, Birdie was finding it hard to relate to a lot of the advice and warnings Brooke kept pushing on her. But she would never tell either of her teachers that. She didn’t want to hurt Brook or give Epictus the satisfaction of knowing he was right.

She kicked her boots off with a troubled sigh. They were already a week into their journey north, and her walking calluses were only just starting to form. That didn’t stop the gentle throb of her feet as she sat there preparing her light meal and worrying about Brooke. She wished the divine would leave already so she could drop her guard and actually relax.

“It’s not too late to send her back, you know. She seems miserable.” Epictus said wisely.

“I don’t think so.” She refuted in secret guilt. Birdie had come to the realization that the divine would burn every bit of proverbial fuel she gave him. Ammi was right, ‘keep your words brief and don’t let him goad you into an argument’. Birdie was finding a great amount of joy in the annoyance she seemed to spark up in the being every time she snubbed him when he tried to start something with her, even if she secretly agreed.

That’s Ventas’s problem. She thought, He is trying too hard to please everyone, and keeps getting dragged into little spats. If he would just keep his mouth shut it would spare us all a lot of bother.

“She does seem a bit touchy.” Ventas sighed, looking wistfully across the hillscape towards the thicket where Brooke went to gather firewood. “Wish she would stop leaving on her own though. One of these days she’s going to run into something and we’re not going to be close enough to help.”

“I told you. We’re fine out here. The wilds don’t start getting dangerous until you leave divine country far behind. The worst we’ll run into out here is a wolf, and Brooke can handle that just fine.”

Even as she said it, Birdie knew she wasn’t telling the full truth. Sure, the mageaters wouldn’t come so close to divine territory for fear of the beings within, but there was something else that could be a threat to them…

She found it hard to believe that the divine in Coastlund would let Gabriel camp out somewhere while Birdie sought the power to destroy him. She’d told on herself, after all, and was now counting the candlemarks in horrid anticipation, waiting for the moment she would have to look into Gabriels terrible eyes once more.

“I am going to kill it!”

Gods, she had practically shouted her errand right at him back in the meadow. Now he knew that she was out to get it, and she couldn’t shake the paranoia that they were all going to answer for her little moment of honesty sooner or later.

Tonight’s camp was in the perfect spot to keep an eye out from though, and for the first time in their journey, Birdie finally felt a little at ease. With no forest to hide inside and the hills as a vantage point, she felt like she had a better chance at seeing something coming. Plus the daylight hours lasted much longer without towering treeline to dip behind early in the evening.

It was the perfect spot. At least, that was Birdie’s opinion.

When they finally left Epictus’s woods that morning, the transition had felt magical. Birdie had forgotten just how amazing it felt to think beneath a large blue sky without the constant barrier of trees and mountains around you. Everything felt clear, clean, and exposed, like thoughts could blow through her brain with as much ease as the wind across the rippling grass that coated the downs around them. It felt good.

Ventas, who was at first absolutely wonder-struck, quickly grew suspicious of all of the new space. He wanted to tuck themselves in for the night in one of the groves of trees that filled the lower land between hills like puddles in a storm. It must have been the hunter in him that craved cover where he could hide, but Birdie shot him down. Too many creatures depended on the shelter of the trees at night, and most of those creatures would not take kindly to sharing with a foreign elf.

Instead, they decided to settle under their apple tree at the top of their hill. Brooke was worried that this would skyline them, but Birdie was willing to take that chance. She preferred to hold the higher ground and so they could see whatever may decide to go after them, be it wolf, mageater, or Gabriel.

Her heart twinged at the thought. Truthfully, she knew that it was wiser to learn the thicker ward. Brooke had good intentions, but Birdie suspected that the girl just didn’t quite get what they were up against. Mageaters were chaotic in size and ability, and Gabriel… who knew what tricks the divine in Coastlund was prepared to unleash upon them in order to stop them on their mission.

“Maybe I should go try to shoot something for dinner.” Vents sighed, snapping Birdie out of her descending whirlpool of thought.

She watched him sit up and reached for his quiver, “If Brooke wants to make a fire then we can cook some birds or something for the road tomorrow. That way we’re not stuck eating apples.”

“I like apples.” Birdie shrugged. She took a bite of one of her apple wedges and the tart taste of the under-ripe fruit coated her tongue, stronger than the spice of magic. She screwed up her face and swallowed the chewy mouthful as fast as she could without choking on the overwhelming sourness.

“Uh-huh, sure.” He reached over and snagged her discarded jar of honey from beside her, popping it open before she could protest and then setting it back down.

“Here. save me some of that would you?” He grunted as he got to his feet and retrieved his unstrung bow, pulling the bowstring from a pouch in his wrapped belt.

“How many days until we reach the next divine settlement?” He asked, grunting as he heaved the top of the bow over his shoulder and pulled the bowstring up to meet its notch.

“Probably only a day and a half,” She said through a mouthful of apple and honey.

“I hope you’re not planning on stopping by.” Epictus chastised.

“I was actually.”

Having strung his bow, Ventas bent down to dig through his pack, pulling socks and rolls of rations wrapped in wax paper from its depths and tossing them on his bedroll.

“I’ve always wanted to see how other people live outside of the wall. When else am I going to get the chance?”

“We are in a bit of a time crunch,” Birdie scowled, “We don’t have time to sight-see. The longer we take to get to the divine up north, the longer Coastlund’s divine has to come up with a way to wipe us all out.”

And do who-knows-what to Gabriel, She thought nervously.

“I wasn’t planning on moving in,” Ventas grumbled, finally giving up and dropping his pack in frustration. “I just wanted to see what the place looks like. Besides, I think I forgot to bring an arm guard. Maybe I can trade for a new one while we’re there.”

“You’ll just have to go without. The divine in this region is a pain and I would advise against getting too close. We really should go around if I’m being honest...”

“Wait, do you know him? Personally?” Ventas asked, freezing to stare into space in wonder, his mismatched eye of darkness looking bizarre next to the innocent wonder in his other one.

“Mmmm,” The divine sounded hesitant, like he was weighing his options or crafting a good lie.

Birdie did her best to seem disinterested, not wanting to spook him away from giving an answer, but she too found herself silently waiting for his response.

The fact was, she had spent countless hours reading everything she could about the territories surrounding their own. She and Gabriel believed that having a good grasp of the area would help them in their journey home, just in case they had to reroute. In all of the notes and maps they poured over, the menial scraps of information they were able to find pieced together to paint a frustratingly vague picture of the other divines around them. Hundreds of years ago, Champions acted as guides between the territories, but in recent centuries the threat of the mageaters had grown so much that contact between settlements was non-existent. Back before it crumbled, Coastlund had been a shining example of a people bent on change. They worked tirelessly to push back against the threat of the wilds, and had expanded to include several villages and a city, all reachable by the divine’s influence. They were attempting to establish another when the magical barriers protecting it fell. That was the last Birdie or anyone had heard about elves attempting to venture farther than the naturally occurring safe spaces around the divines, and as a result, their knowledge of surrounding settlements was incredibly dated and most likely inaccurate.

They knew there were at least two divines to the north- a theory cemented by the magical map Epictus had shown them back in his shrine. She also knew of a possibility that there was one to the south west border between Epictus’s region and the territory of Coastlund. But none of their records described what the other divines were actually like. Birdie wondered if they were anything like Epictus. Then she imagined two Epictuses, and decided that it would probably be in their best interest to avoid collecting another by avoiding the area entirely.

“I knew him, yes,” Epictus mused. “He and I… we belonged to the same social circle once-upon-a-time. But he was a disagreeable person from the start, and after a string of poor decisions on his part, the two of us parted ways on… not the best of terms.”

Social circle? Birdie wondered what that would look like. She imagined a group of divine beings, all celestial and freckled like the night sky, wearing ceremonial party clothes and enjoying a roasted pig together over a barrel of mead. It was a strange thought.

“So you’re just trying to avoid an awkward reunion.” Ventas nodded knowingly.

“Is that such a bad thing?” Epictus asked with a simper. “When you ordinaries have awkward interactions, you make snide jabs or have petty arguments. It’s exhausting but manageable. When divines have awkward interaction, cities get leveled and the minstrels that survive don't shut-up about it for centuries. You’ll forgive me for trying to avoid even more conflict on our already conflict-packed itinerary.”

“You sound defensive,” Ventas teased, “You must have done something pretty awful to him if you’re worried about him destroying entire cities just because I need a new arm guard.”

“Make your own arm guard if you really need one that badly. But mark my words: stay away from this settlement. Even if we were still friends, I wouldn't want him getting his hands on you lot. He was never any good at treating his subjects with grace, I doubt he would be any kinder to someone with connections to… well, ah, me.”

He chuckled nervously, further convincing Birdie that Ventas may have been on to something. Birdie trusted Epictus enough to be reasonably confident that he would never lead them into deliberate danger, but he was definitely hiding something. In any other situation she might be suspicious and try to pry the truth out of him, but at the moment her objective was to get to the northern divine, get a second blessing, and get back to save Gabriel. They could delve into the history of the divines another time…

“Well Epictus, you’re no peach yourself,” Birdie joked. “But the more I am learning about the other divines, the more I am starting to wonder how any of them got Champions in the first place. Ammi used to say that the divine in Coastlund was cruel, and I believe her after seeing what he did… but at least he had a vision of expansion and was consistent. If your other old divine friend was just pointlessly abusive, then I don’t see the point. Why would anyone choose to follow someone who treats them badly?”

Epictus ignored her jab, and when he spoke it was with a suspicious lightness, as if he was dancing around her feelings.

“I honestly don’t know. As you know, we divines have been out of contact with one another for a few hundred years now, so I am not sure about their follower status… But abusers can be manipulative. When you have access to power- be it magic, status, or the bonds of blood- it is easy to make others feel like they need you, and you can use that false dependence to get away with an unfortunate level of cruelty. When you alone can provide safety… well, I can only imagine what kind of tricks you can play on someone who is vulnerable. They’re good at twisting your feelings and making you think the mistreatment is your fault so you stick around, make bad choices, do things you otherwise wouldn’t choose to do...”

“Is that what you did to us then?” She asked lightly, chuckling as she drizzled more honey over her fruit.

“Tricked us into a bad choice?”

Neither Ventas or Epictus answered. She looked to the hunter to see him scowling off into the distance, still holding his hand over his eye. She wondered if it pained him every time Epictus spoke…

After a moment he snatched his bow and whirled, whispering under his breath in words that Birdie just barely caught.

“What do you know about me?.”

“What?” Birdie asked.

Ventas didn’t hear her, or if he did he pretended not to as he stalked away, taking with him the heavy taste of magic in the air.

“Whatever.” She shrugged, returning to her apples.

Only one week in, and their communication was in shambles. Birdie wasn’t delusional, she knew that a big part of all of this was her fault for dragging Brooke along and then refusing to play mediator between her and the divine. But She brought her along for this very reason. Ventas was just as strange as she remembered, totally fine one moment and completely stand-offish the next.

Birdie stretched out on her bedroll and rested her head on her folded arms, looking up at the sky from under the leavy limbs of the apple tree. She took the time to breathe deeply, relishing the brief moment of silence and solace in the wake of the week of tension.

As her mind wandered, she began to worry. Epictus was annoyed with her choice to bring along Brooke, and he took it out on her. Brook was obviously miserable, and she took it out on Ventas. But Birdie still wasn’t convinced she had made the wrong choice.

Either way, she was in too deep to relent now. Plus Epictus would be insufferable if she sent Brooke home... Even the thought of his gloating voice made her teeth itch with irritation.

But still. She couldn’t stop thinking of her companion’s miserable faces as Brooke dealt with the hardships of living on the go, and Ventas acted as the verbal target dummy for both of her teachers.

“I don’t feel bad for him.” She affirmed to herself, closing her eyes.“He can take care of himself.”

She had just begun to drift off when a rancid taste suddenly hit her mouth- like the spicy rank of an animal corpse. It reminded her vividly of the time she and Gabriel were on training with Shields and stumbled across the body of a deer after it had died in the summer heat. The sudden oppression made her gag and retch as tears filled her eyes. She rocked up on her hands and covered her mouth and nose.

What on earth?

In the midst of her appalling confusion, she heard faint shouts floating up from the grove a second before the divine’s voice whispered in her ears, disjointed and faint, as if he was calling her from far off.

“Birdie get up! You need to move!”

“What? What’s happening?” She shouted in panic, scrambling to collect her boots, wondering if she had dreamed the sound.

Rather than answering, Epictus went silent. She froze for a moment, wondering if she had imagined it, and then she heard a concussive pop echo to her right from where Brooke and Ventas went down the hill. Red sparks of a flare rose in the sky, and a moment later, the distant shouts of her companions finally made sense enough to hear as they drew closer up the hill.

“RUN!”

“Mageaters!”