Chapter 20: River Run

After a few days of getting back home and enjoying reconnecting with friends, family, and the people around town, Wil took his Thunderhawk up the mountain.

It had been hard at first, not immediately going up to Skalet Peak and poking around. But Wil was committed, and Darlene insisted that they take a few days to themselves first. It didn’t take too much to convince him to wander around town, say hi to the neighbors, and enjoy some home cooking.

He’d discovered that both Jeb and Sarah were away, off on their own adventures. Jeb traveled back and forth between the embassy and Faerie along with Arabella, and they’d be gone for another few weeks. Sarah was at school in Manifee City, and had been for a month. Wil was surprised to find he’d flown by her school on the way back home and never knew his sister had been only a few hundred feet away for a few minutes.

Mack and Candy kept the Shack going and not much had changed for them, save for demand increasing as more and more people came to Harper Valley to see or deal with the fae. The extra population was the biggest complaint he heard when making his rounds about town.

Wil saw it himself a number of times. There were now half a dozen different wizards who were staying in town. Almost all of them had been excited to meet him and talk his ear off, and he had a slew of new names and faces to remember, but most of them had at least had manners.

Most of the tourists were fine, if a bit obnoxious. As he, Darlene, and Bram had lunch, he heard one woman from Cloverton talking with her companions over how behind Harper Valley seemed like it was from another time. They had to intervene before a man ugly-laughing at a farmer got his face rearranged.

Only four months, and everything was different. Not by much, but enough to make home feel foreign. As pleasant as it was to have a few days with loved ones, it was even better to start working. Wil flew the Thunderhawk through town, winding his way west past farmland and a neighborhood of tall, multi-family homes, now apparently at capacity. He approached the looming mountain, excitement flooding his veins.

Now that there was no mad mage trying to pick a fight, or threat of impending war, Wil got to enjoy the experience of going up the mountain at reckless speeds. For the most part, he kept to the footpath and didn’t risk himself outside some incredibly sharp turns that almost capsized him. It was enough to be able to make the trek quickly and without tiring, and to enjoy even more of the changes in the forest on the way up.

There were homes, for one. The majority of the forest remained wild, though now with vividly colored trees and new creatures that looked almost but not quite like they belonged. The new mushroom homes in clusters of four or five around the mountain surprised Wil, but the guards placed throughout the woods didn’t.

He only saw them because they let him, he was sure, as he made eye contact with an elf sitting high up on a tree’s branch. She nodded to him and gestured higher up, as if he was expected. For all he knew, he was.

About halfway up, Wil drifted to the southwest and saw the river he’d created half a year before. There wasn’t that much water flowing now. It was more a wild, deep stream carved into the mountain and winding all the way up to the peak, where it drained the rainy runoff of the lake. He slowed to a stop at the side of the river.

When Wil extended his senses, there was nothing special about the river in any direction. The land was disturbed long ago, but the mountain claimed and accepted those changes with time. It wasn’t perfectly integrated, but it was like a healing scar. Wil powered the Thunderhawk forward slowly, following the scar upwards.

As Wil traced the scar backwards up the mountain, he thought back to the night. The rain and wind had blinded him, and he’d never been so afraid as he had that night, watching the flash floods pour down toward Harper Valley. Desperation had him do the only thing he could think of. He’d tapped into the leyline and used its power to enhance his own and he ripped a channel in the earth.

Somehow, the leyline itself had ripped. Only moments passed, but the way it had felt at the time seared itself into Wil’s memory. One second he held all the power of the leyline in his hands, and it burned like the sun. And then something gave, and it had deflated. Like a sack of grain emptying out and spilling onto the floor, only without end.

Now, the leyline remained in the same state. Weaker down here, though the trickle of exposed magical energy still flowed down the mountain. Wil’s heart warmed as he got closer to the source of all of his problems.

Skalet Peak once had been a place for the people of Harper Valley to go up and camp at. There was a single cabin that was property of the city, a lake, and plenty of places for families to come up and cook and enjoy nature, especially in summer. Now it belonged, once again, to the fae and housed their interdimensional portal to Faerie.

The standout detail was the tree, hundreds of feet tall and still growing, coming out of a new island in the center of the lake. The last time Wil had been up here, there were camps for guards and fae coming in and out to rest at, but now there were permanent buildings. Or what passed for buildings for the nature inclined people. It mostly meant they grew their buildings out of trees, mushrooms, and shaped rock.

Wil slowed down once more, heart skipping a beat as he saw it all. Dozens of people were there, and several came towards him, headed for him but in no hurry to get there. There was Faerie, and its siren call, begging him to return and drink in the magical air. He dismounted and decided to leave his iron-based vehicle far away from the sensitive fae, and met a tall, hairy ogre.

“Hello,” said Wil, with as much friendliness as he could convey, “it’s been a while, but I believe I’m still allowed up here, right?”

The ogre looked at him, sniffed, then nodded. “Yeah,” he said in his thick, gravelly voice. “We recognize you, Wilbur McKenzie. What’s your business here today?”

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He was polite and even toned, for an ogre, but Wil recognized the quiet, insistent challenge. “I’m here to study the leyline,” he said. “I made a promise to your leaders that I would do my best to better understand what happened, when I was able to come back.”

“Hmm.” The ogre grunted.

More fae came up to them until Wil was almost surrounded. He didn’t feel threatened. He was stronger than he’d ever been, and close to Faerie. Even without his staff, he would be a force to be reckoned with. Besides, they loved him here!

“If now’s not a great time, I can always come back later. I wouldn’t want to be an inconvenience or a poor guest.”

That caught their attention. As alien and capricious as they could be, they took hospitality seriously, and their nation collectively had an obligation to Wil. It wasn’t enough to bludgeon them and take what he wanted, but it got the point across.

“What are you going to examine, Master McKenzie?” A gnome with a pipe hanging out of his mouth asked. “Perhaps I can be of assistance. I’m Connor, and I handle the wards here.”

Wil lit up. “You’re exactly who I need to speak to. Can I ask you questions about your wards and how you do them? Do they make use of the leyline, and does it function differently with the leyline in this state?”

A few of the fae fell back, seeing it was dealt with. The ogre lingered a second longer before he nodded at Connor and fell back. He kept his eyes on the two of them, but Wil stopped paying attention to him.

Connor chuckled and pulled his pipe out of his mouth. As far as gnomes went, he looked fairly young. Or, at least, not ancient, lined and with a thick gray beard. He jabbed the stem over to where logs had been carved into simple bench seats. “Come, wizard, have a drink with me and I’ll be happy to share what I know.”

Wil gratefully sat down and accepted some sort of tea. He brought it to his lips and was about to drink when he paused. “This isn’t the type of tea that makes you party for a few days straight, is it? I’m still dealing with the consequences of the last time I had a bit too much fae indulgence unknowingly.”

Connor shook his head with a laugh. “Just really delicious tea, perfect for aches and pains and a clear mind.” He sipped noisily.

Wil took a drink of his own and nearly spat it out. Fae tastes tended towards either extreme sweet, or extremely bitter. This tea managed to be both. With a forced smile, Wil asked, “So, first question, I guess. Has the leyline changed much over the past few months?”

“Changed how?” Declan sipped again, a twinkle dancing in his dark eyes.

“Changed. Like…” Wil breathed out and extended his senses. It was like suddenly standing right next to a roaring waterfall and getting blasted by the spray and the sound. “It didn’t used to be this forceful. When it tore, it changed to this, but I don’t know if it’s been steady this entire time, or if it’s getting weaker, or…”

Connor cocked his head to the side. “Why would it be weaker? We’re utilizing the leyline now and making sure it doesn’t spill out too much into the valley below. The more we use and nurture the leyline, the more it will give back to us. With enough time, it might even knit back into one. I don’t know what will happen to us then, but that’s centuries away.”

Wil blinked. When he’d asked before, the fae hadn’t been particularly helpful or knowledgeable on the subject. “Does this mean that leylines have changed before?” he asked hopefully.

“Leylines are always changing,” said Connor. “Never as much as this one did, but it’ll heal in time as it continues to grow and wind around the world in its never-ending journey. And with it, it brings life and health.”

That was the other hard part of trying to talk to the fae about leylines. To Wil and other wizards, they were a naturally occurring phenomenon that could be harnessed like a tool. To the fae, there was an almost religious reverence to them, even though the fae didn’t worship anything as far as Wil could tell.

“If you were going to intentionally change leylines to make them look or feel different, or to change their flow, what would you do?”

The gnome’s pleasant expression twisted. “I wouldn’t,” he said coldly. “I’d accept the gifts they offer, and not be greedy or try to force them to be something they’re not.”

“That’s the problem,” said Wil. “My people can’t use the leylines the way yours can. We need it to be different, and we’re trying to figure things out right now. So we can be as good as you are at it.”

The last line was pure flattery, but it worked. “You shouldn’t try to be like us. You should try to be like you. Hmm. Close your eyes, and reach for the wards. Go on.” Connor replaced his tea with his pipe again, puffing along pleasantly.

Wil did as he was told. With his eyes closed and senses opened, the leyline roared at him once more, spewing its familiar strength and power. At first, that’s all he could sense, but then over time a few things popped out to him. Like dots of orange in a sea of red, hard to see but there once you knew what to look for.

It at once felt alien and unusual. Not hostile, but Wil couldn’t tell much more than that. Fae magic of some kind, but it was anchored to the leyline and that’s what stood out to Wil.

“We can do this to an extent,” said Wil without opening his eyes. “Tie a spell into a leyline. It helps for a while, but it’s usually not this stable. What is it you do differently than us?”

“We don’t try to force it,” said Connor. “We accept it as is and use what it offers. That’s not the human way. We take care of the leylines, and they take care of us. Simple as that.”

Well, that wasn’t helpful. Unless…Wil opened his eyes. “You’re right,” he said. “We’re different, and we shouldn’t try to be like you. No one else has done what I have, apparently, so maybe…It was nice sharing tea with you, but I need to go.”

Connor inclined his head respectfully. “Then I am glad to share a drink and some words, Master McKenzie.”

Wil had to force himself not to run back to his Thunderhawk. He flew back down the mountain, but not too far. The river he made waited for him, and the leyline was within reach. Wil flew down further, keeping the river of power in his mind’s eye until he could barely touch it. He made it about a third of the way down the mountain before stopping.

If he ripped it, he could fix it. Maybe change it. Wil took a long, steadying breath and reached out with his considerable magical strength. The leyline answered his call, a spark to ignite his fire. Wil brought his hands up and closed them together, and the river closed itself off. Drifting upwards, Wil’s mind was in two completely different worlds as he drove back up, sealing the river as he went, changing the landscape once more.

It wasn’t until he was most of the way back up when he noticed the difference. The wild river of power seemed fast and impossible to grasp in his mind all at once, but that changed the longer he held onto it. Little by little it seemed to shrink, or else he grew. Wild magic cascading into Skalet Peak didn’t stop. It thickened and intensified, becoming less of a wild sprinkler and more of a hose.

A sense of euphoria lifted his spirits, and he didn’t know if it was overexposure to the leyline or the thrill of success. Upon getting back up to the clearing before the tree on the Peak, Wil’s control gave out and he crashed three feet into the ground. He went rolling off the Thunderhawk and settled in a muddy patch, laughing his head off.

“Are you okay?” The suspicious ogre had run up to him and now made up half of Wil’s vision, which just made him laugh even harder.

“Okay? I’m better than okay. I did it again!”