Chapter 35
A New Vote of Confidence
Connie sat alone beneath the tree for a long while, staring morosely at the ruined aircraft. No one bothered her. After a few hours, she lay where she knelt on the rough ground strewn with debris. She gazed up into the stars. Now the party wanted to return to Roggentine. She felt certain if they did this, the quest would fail. And that would be her fault, too.
Soon, Connie fell asleep. In her dream, she walked across a cold, snowy plain without a coat, shivering from the frigid air. Then a warm breeze blew. It wrapped itself around her like the hand of some great spirit. Before her eyes, the snowy plain melted away to an endless field of blue grass. Above was a friendly, cloudless green sky. Flowers of vibrant red and yellow sprouted up from the grass. Suddenly, angry brown clouds came. They obscured the sun. Then the flowers withered. Then the vast areas of the field sank in the black, tar-like pools of Chaos. She ran across the field to escape the black pools. Wherever she ran, a black pool appeared. Now a pool appeared under her feet. She tried to move her legs, but the pool held her feet fast. To her horror, she began to sink into the pool. A wave of panic swept over her. She struggled violently to wrest free of the Chaos. She sank deeper into the quagmire. Now the pool had her arms. She felt something in the tar was gnawing at her flesh. She let out a scream for help…
Connie awoke on her cot in the lady’s cabin. She sat up in the cot, covered with sweat. She looked around, momentarily disoriented. Evidently, someone had carried her back to the cabin sometime during the night. She thought it incredible that she did not awaken, for she was normally a light sleeper. She was alone in the cabin. She saw daylight shining behind the cracks in the door. Remembering the tragedy that occurred during the evening, she swung the door wide open. Then the nightmare of the evening returned in broad daylight. There, in the courtyard, was the ruin of the plane, surrounded with bits and pieces of wood and metal.
Slowly and carefully, as if being careful not to awaken a sleeping giant, she walked up to the craft to survey the damage. The major part of the fuselage was blown twenty paces from where it had sat on the sled. Now the once sleek, graceful-looking fuselage rested upside down. The ground below where the tail rested was a knee-deep hole. Not surprisingly, the entire tail and most of the rear section of the aircraft were gone entirely. Both of the wings had been sheared from the craft. They lay at varying distances from the craft. Although the wings were ripped from the fuselage at their roots, they appeared more or less intact. A broken, ruined sled lay on the slope a good hundred paces from the rest of the wreckage. Not surprisingly, there wasn’t a trace left of the metal plate that held the enchantment.
Although the damage to the craft was immense, it could be repaired, except for the tail, sled, and enchantment plate, which would need to be rebuilt from scratch.
Connie got a waft of breakfast from the cottage. It occurred to her that no one had woken her for breakfast. She figured they were incredibly angry at her. When she entered the cottage, the party had just finished their meal. No one seemed to be paying much attention to her at the doorway until she spoke.
“Anyone save some for me?” she asked in the most chipper voice she could conjure, considering the circumstances.
“Over here,” Jalban said, holding out a cold plate of boiled, unseasoned jule.
Connie took the plate and took a seat at the crude wood table where they took most of their meals. This is when she realized that the party’s personal belongings were not in sight. She instantly gathered they were stowed inside the Threshibian bag. She found a seat on one of the wooden stools Jalban made for the party. She took a bite of the jule. It was cold and tough. It did not help that she was tired of eating it morning, noon, and night. For the moment, her thoughts were too far away to care.
“It looks like we’re going on a trip,” Connie said.
“You need to pack your things in the bag,” Rahl said.
“Why?”
“We are heading back to Roggentine.”
Connie swallowed the jule and nearly gagged. “We are?”
Yalden jumped in. “Yes, we are.”
Connie was aghast on hearing that, although it did not exactly surprise her. She looked to her ally, Snow. The sorceress looked away. Connie looked Rahl. He let out a sigh. Evidently, the party had been discussing the matter among themselves all morning while she slept in. It appeared that that matter had been settled in her absence.
“Pack your things, Connie,” Rahl said.
Connie put down the plate of jule. “No one asked me my opinion.”
“We don’t care what your opinion is,” Yalden said.
“But there is another option.”
“What is that?” he replied.
“We can rebuild the aircraft.”
At this suggestion, a low mutter and some guffaws came from the party. Connie noticed Snow shake her head.
“You want us to build it again?” Yalden asked.
“You can’t be serious,” Theo said. “We spent the last few months breaking out backs to build that contraption.”
“And what if the same thing happens again?” Maltokken asked.
Then, all at once, the party bombarded her with insults and derisive questions.
“Listen to me!” she shouted at them, fighting to keep her calm. “I was looking over the aircraft. The damage is not that bad. All we have to do is—”
Yalden got to his feet. “Silence!” he bellowed.
The party instantly went silent. Yalden stepped over to Connie. He stood over her with a stare of contempt. Connie looked up at him, returning his stare, undaunted by the large warrior who stood inches from her.
“If we hadn’t listened to you, we’d already have returned to Roggentine,” he said. “We’d be on our way back by now with an army.”
“You don’t know that for certain, Yalden,” she shot back. “For all you know, Chaos would have killed us before we returned. Besides, your so-called army would still have to cross the chasm. Have you figured out any better way to do it?”
“We could go around.”
“How far? How many leagues? How many leagues did we go before we turned back?”
“I’d rather die than fly in your craft,” he sneered.
“And I’d rather die than go back to Roggentine with a coward like you.”
“You disrespectful snoot!” he said. With that, he grabbed Connie roughly by the robe, yanked her off stool, and raised her up to his face. “I ought to break your neck for that!”
“Take your hands off of me, you fool,” Connie said.
“I’ll take my hands off of you when I choose—not when you order me.”
“Release her, Yalden,” Rahl ordered from across the table.
Yalden did not ease his grip. Instead, he pulled Connie closer still. She felt his warm breath on her face.
“That thing exploded. What if we’d been in it when it happened?”
“It wouldn’t have happened,” Snow said to him. “She just botched the enchantment. Now let go of her. I forbid you to treat my apprentice that way.”
“Yalden, release her.” Rahl said.
When Yalden refused to comply, Rahl stood up from the table and moved toward his brother.
“That’s the problem with Connie,” Yalden said, snarling the words. “She uses magic. Magic is sneaky. It’s the tool of cowards.”
“You’re the only coward in this room, Yalden,” Connie said.
“Stop calling me a coward.”
“Go to the devil, Yalden.”
Rahl put his hand on Yalden’s shoulder. “Come, brother, we can talk about this.”
Yalden shook off Rahl’s hand. He forcefully flung Connie down to the stone floor of the cottage. Connie’s head struck the edge of the stool she’d been sitting on. Yalden drew his sword. Immediately, Rahl grabbed him. Yalden threw him off. He poised his sword over his head to cleave the sneaky elemental sorceress on the floor before him. Dazed from striking her head, she gazed up at Yalden, unable to rally her concentration for a spell. Before Yalden could complete the swing, Snow muttered a word, and there came a bright flash in the air just in front of his eyes. He fell back. Seizing the moment, Rahl lunged at his brother, and both of them tumbled to the floor. Jalban and Theo ran over and helped Connie to her feet while the two fighters rolled around on the floor of the cabin, breaking furniture as they went. Finally, Rahl disarmed his brother, and being the better warrior, he soon had his slightly larger brother immobilized beneath him.
“She dies!” Yalden bellowed.
With an addled Connie at a safe distance from Yalden, Snow knelt in front of Yalden, who still struggled violently in Rahl’s grasp. “If you lay so much as a finger on my apprentice, so help me by the gods, I will slay you,” she said. “Do you hear me, Yalden? You have been warned.”
“I’ll kill you too.”
Snow let out a mirthful, confident laugh. “Oh, Yalden, it is very unlikely you shall ever be able to do that.”
At these words, perhaps in believing her, Yalden stopped struggling.
“Let him go, Rahl. Yalden has had a change of heart on us sneaky spellcasters.”
At that, Rahl released his brother. Yalden quickly got to his feet. He gave Connie, then Snow, a vicious, contemptuous look, then he stormed out of the cottage. Jalban stepped over and helped Snow bring Rahl to his feet.
“I’m telling you, Rahl. If he weren’t your brother—”
“Yes, I know.”
Returning to her senses, Connie felt the back of her head. Already she had a lump there the diameter of a Rezni piece and was growing. Fortunately, there was no blood.
“Are you all right?” Jalban asked her.
“I’m fine.”
She looked over at Rahl and Snow. “Once again, thank you,” she said, addressing them.
Appearing haggard from the whole experience, Rahl sat back down at the head of the table. “I do understand his frustration.”
“You give him more credit than he deserves,” Snow said.
Rahl had sustained a scrape on his forehead from the scuffle. Jalban dabbed on some healing salve.
Connie looked over Snow as he did this, noticing how she regarded him with a sympathetic expression.
Rahl addressed the group, “We must now pack our belongings to return to Roggentine.”
“I will not go with you.” Connie said.
Rahl looked at her with a stern expression. “All of us are leaving. You will be alone if you stay.”
Connie shook her head. “No, Rahl. I have burdened this party enough. I’d prefer to stay here on my own.”
“But it is dangerous here.”
“I taught wilderness survival training classes on Earth for three years. I can take care of myself.”
“That was on Earth.” Rahl looked at Snow. “She’s your apprentice. What is your say in this matter?”
“It’s Connie’s decision. I cannot force her.”
Rahl put on his breastplate in preparation for travel. Snow fastened the straps for him. Connie watched.
“What will you do with her by yourself?” Rahl asked her.
“I don’t know. Think, maybe. Maybe I can work on the aircraft.”
“I doubt you can do much to repair it on your own.”
“Then perhaps I can simply wait for you to return.”
Rahl shook his head. “You are the most stubborn woman I have ever met.”
“You mean, next to me,” Snow added while fussing over a recalcitrant strap on his breastplate.
“That’s right. You’re the best at everything, including being stubborn.”
“Thanks, Rahl,” she said, catching the jibe.
Connie looked into the swordbearer’s eyes and spoke, “Sind’s brother died awfully from Chaos. So did Jenada. So did the garrison at the Castle Maray. And so did the townspeople of Zeranon. I’d rather die than leave their deaths unavenged. To return anything short of victorious would be a disgrace.”
These words provoked a thoughtful expression from Rahl. Now Connie looked up at Snow.
“And then there’s Calicus. Have you told him that you’ll be returning to Roggentine?”
“No. I have been unable to contact him.”
“Then how do you think he will feel when his best apprentice, the ‘Great Celestial Sorceress Elenglea,’ returns to Roggentine without even retrieving one of the artifacts? Do you think he will be pleased with you?”
Snow’s face flushed with anger. “You know nothing of my relationship with my mentor!”
Connie felt the bump on her scalp. It smarted mightily when she touched it.
“Yes, Snow, you are correct. I can only speculate on your relationship with Calicus. But even with a bump on my head, I know he will not be pleased with you. Can you admit otherwise? And when you return, will you be able to justify the deaths of Fandia and the others who gave their lives for this quest?” Now Connie addressed both of them. “None of the others, save the two of you, will lose honor by returning to Roggentine. Not Jalban, not Yalden, not Theo, not Maltokken, because you are their leaders.” Connie stood up and walked to the wall. She now spoke, facing away from the swordbearer and the sorceress. “Go away now. And when Calicus and the Roggentine Council ask you where I am, tell them that I alone stayed to look for a way to retrieve the artifacts.”
Rahl and Snow said nothing, and a long, thoughtful silence passed in the cottage. A moment later, Jalban’s voice broke the silence from the open doorway.
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“We are ready, now.”
Connie did not look back. She heard Snow whisper something to Rahl, then there were some shuffling sounds, after which the cottage went silent. When Connie turned around, she found she was alone in the cottage. She sighed. She thought the two party leaders would have least considered her point of view.
Connie sat down at the table where remained her half-eaten breakfast of week-old seasoned jule. She gazed despondently into the dying blue light emanating from the nearby stove. She was disappointed that Rahl and Snow had chosen not to remain with her. But more than anything else, she was disappointed in herself for losing their confidence in the first place.
She moved aside the plate of uneaten jule and rested her elbows on the table. She looked up at the makeshift roof of the cottage while she contemplated her next move. Spring was just around the corner, but what was there to do? Rahl was right. She would not be able to do the repairs on the plane herself. She did not have the necessary woodworking skills to accomplish the onerous task. Also, no one would be around to help her out. And even if she did somehow repair the plane on her own, what was the point? Who would go with her? Rahl had taken the maps, so she wouldn’t be able to retrieve the artifacts on her own anyway.
Connie shut her eyes. She still ached from the explosion. She fought the urge to jump up and rejoin the party. At least if she returned with them, she’d have a crack at succeeding at the next quest. Then she thought over what she’d said to Rahl and Snow. If she rejoined them, they’d consider her a hypocrite at best. Even worse, she will have broken her personal code of conduct. Yes, it was better to sit in the mountains and wait for the world to end than to do that.
She felt unrested from the vivid, tumultuous dream that had come to her in the night. She was also developing a headache from the bump. She had received quite a concussion when her head struck the stool. She should have let Jalban or Theo examine her afterward.
Presently, with all the time in the world at her disposal and nothing to do, she rested her head on the table. She had almost nodded off when she suddenly heard a noise outside the cottage. She jumped to her feet. Not having her nodes handy, she quickly drew her Keeness-enhanced dagger and stealthily hopped over to the side of the doorway, ready to pounce on whoever or whatever entered. Seconds later, Rahl appeared at the door. His appearance surprised Connie. She let out a sigh of relief and lowered the weapon.
“Rahl!”
Without a word, he entered the cottage. He took a seat by the stove. Next came Snow, then Theo, and finally Tristana.
“Why are you back?” Connie asked them, sheathing her dagger. “Have you forgotten something?”
“We have decided to remain,” Rahl answered. “We shall complete the quest.”
She did a quick mental tally of the party. “Where is everyone else?”
“We released Yalden, Maltokken, and Jalban to return to Roggentine without us,” Snow replied.
Connie looked to Theo. His presence in the cottage surprised her. “Without a spellcaster?” she asked.
“They know the risks, yet they were adamant about going anyway,” the sorceress said.
Connie contemplated this scenario. Only at that moment did she realize the magnitude of Rahl’s decision to let his beloved brother travel into the realm of Chaos without a spellcaster. Indeed, only a great change of heart on his part could have allowed him to take such a perilous journey. He was sacrificing the life of his brother for the sake of the quest. Her heart swelled in admiration for the swordbearer. She felt the nearly irresistible urge to embrace him and tell him he was doing the right thing.
“Very well, then,” Snow said to Connie in an abrasive tone, breaking her out of her reverie. “We have chosen to stay with you. What do we need to do?”
“Repair the aircraft.”
“What about the enchantment?”
“Without the weight of the three others, we will need less node strength. I need to calculate it out to determine exactly how much we need. We should get started on righting the fuselage first.”
The party spent the remainder of the day out in the courtyard recovering the usable pieces of the plane. They carried the damaged-but-serviceable portions of the plane back into the improvised hangar. They stacked the rest of the wood into a pile by the cottage to be used for firewood.
Later that evening, after dinner, Snow came to Connie, who sat by herself carving a new control rod for the plane’s flaps.
“I’d like to speak with you for a moment,” the sorceress said.
“I’m listening,” Connie said, not looking up for the wooden shaft she was carving.
“Some time has passed since I took you on as my apprentice.”
“So?”
“Do you have any regrets about being my apprentice?”
She sighed. “Not in particular.”
“Then the time has come to formalize it.”
Connie stopped carving and looked up at Snow. “Formalize it?”
“Yes. There is a minor ritual that must take place.”
“I thought I was already your apprentice?”
She rocked her head. “You are, but you aren’t. A specified period had to pass before I could formally accept you after you applied to me. That time has now elapsed.”
“What does it change?”
“A lot. You must be formalized as my apprentice before I can teach you celestial magic. You still want to learn it, don’t you?”
“Of course!”
“So be it, then. I will prepare. Come see me when you’ve finished what you’re doing.”
Snow gathered up the entire party, and by the light of the fire that night before all of them, Connie took a formal oath of apprenticeship to Snow. The oath itself was mainly a swearing of allegiance between mentor and apprentice, a pact of mutual defense, a non-disclosure agreement of the Science of Celestial Magic, and, importantly, a tithe that the apprentice must pay the mentor each time spells are cast at a profit.
At the end of the ceremony, Snow placed around Connie’s neck her amulet of protection to seal her covenant. When Connie looked at the medallion, she saw its inscription had changed from “Elenglea Vanexay” to the cursory, Cerinavian phonetic equivalent of “Constance Elizabeth Bain.” The solemn oath ceremony ended in tears and a hug. Rahl broke out some spirits he had kept hidden from the others in a purposely mismarked water skin. No one drank him more than that night. The next morning, Theo found it necessary to cast a spell on him to dispel his hangover so that he could work on the aircraft.
After a week, the plane began to take shape again. This time, the tail took only a little over a week to construct. Snow, Tristana, and Theo made repairs to the wings, while Connie helped Rahl in shaping and fitting the slats that comprised the skin of the craft.
During the evenings, Snow sat with Connie while they went over the rudiments of celestial spell theory. Connie learned that unlike the elemental and spiritual spells that were cast from energy held in nodes and humors, celestial spells were powered from energy that the spellcaster added to his or her life force. It became very evident to Connie that unlike the cut-and-dry science of elemental magic, celestial magic was much more vague and mysterious. Whereas nodes were given numerical values in strength, the magical force that powered celestial spells was rated in imprecise terms relative to the energy level of the spellcaster.
Snow explained to Connie that the first celestial spells she’d cast would come from her own life force. After this, meditation would allow the spirit to automatically begin to accumulate celestial energy. As with all celestial mages, the more energy she’d be able to amass in addition to her life force, the more powerful the spell that could be cast. Consequently, the more spells she cast, the more energy her life force could hold.
Connie asked the sorceress why she sometimes got so tired after casting some spells. The sorceress explained that some energy from the spellcaster's core life force is always consumed when casting a celestial spell. The consumption is higher if multiple spells or exceptionally powerful spells are cast. This causes general weariness and malaise in the celestial spellcaster, and if the spellcaster overextends himself by drawing too much of his life force away, the result is coma and death. Snow told Connie her speculation that Alyndia had rendered herself unconscious in the Wild after putting most of her life force into the bracelet that Connie had put on.
Two weeks passed. Snow continued her instruction of Connie on the celestial arts during the evenings, while during the day, they remained preoccupied with acquiring more nodes for the Push enchantment and repairing the plane. Eventually, they moved the plane back to the courtyard. The party cheered for themselves when they lowered the fuselage with a newly rebuilt tail section back onto the sled. They then carried out the wings from the town hall building, where Theo and Rahl attached them to the fuselage. Later that day, Rahl attached the new, contoured plate (fashioned from what was once his prized shield) to the tail of the plane. This new plate, which was larger and more substantial than the previous one, would hold the enchantment.
Connie had calculated that minus the weight of three passengers, they would now need a node power of only 250 to push the plane off the mountain slope with enough velocity to get it over the chasm. After the third week, they had just enough node power to complete the enchantment. Connie and Snow got to work on the enchantment of the metal with the Push spells as soon as the plate was affixed. Under Snow’s careful guidance, it now took Connie half the time to do the enchantment. After only four days, they had used up nearly all the nodes to give the enchantment a total node strength of around 200—the absolute minimum needed to fly the plane. As it was the first time, the metal glowed with a bright yellow light from the hyper-enchantment, and it felt warm to the touch.
Around this time, the air temperature had been rising, and the snow on the slope was beginning to melt. Connie knew that the time had come to launch the plane. She knew that if they waited too long, the snow would become too thin, and the sled would not make it up the mountain without being caught in the rough, rocky soil below.
Snow was finishing up the last enchantment just before dusk. While she did this, Connie sat inside in the pilot’s seat, activating the controls while Rahl gave her feedback. Theo and Tristana applied the last of the blue sealant resin to the wings.
Just before the last light of the sun dipped below the horizon, the five remaining members of the party stood together as a group to admire their creation. Built to its original design, the plane retained the three seats for those that were not there. Connie noticed Rahl staring at the seats. Without him saying so, she knew he was thinking of his brother.
“I do hope this contraption flies,” Theo said with uncertainty in his voice, echoing the secret sentiments of the others.
“Tomorrow we shall know the truth,” Snow said.
“Let us eat,” Theo said. “I don’t want to be hungry in my last evening.”
The party filed into the cottage to commence with preparation for the evening meal. Connie stayed behind. She retrieved her quill pen and ink from the ladies’ cottage and brought them back to the plane. She knelt on the ground before the tail. Then she lovingly wrote the following in cursive Cerinavian script:
This aircraft is dedicated to the memory of Albert Bain Jr.
Connie’s eyes were wet with tears by the time she finished the dedication. She closed her eyes and took a moment of repose while she visualized the image of her father looking over her plane, complimenting her on what she had done. She felt his spirit watching over her, even here in the faraway land of chlorine and acid. Finally, she rose to her feet, kissed her hand, and placed it on the craft, then she rejoined the party in preparing the supper.
That night, in the ladies’ cottage, Snow prepared Connie to cast her first celestial spell, a minor one called simply №12. This was a spell that would allow Connie to see auras. This was the same spell Snow had cast on Connie months earlier so that she could see the auras of the party members.
“With this spell,” Snow began, “you will see the life force that radiates from all living things. This is an important spell, for with it, along with the aura you will also be able to see the celestial magic a being carries with it. This magic appears as a white halo around the natural aura of the subject in question. The more intense and sparkling the white halo, the stronger the current level of magic within the being. Consequentially, if this is a spellcaster you are dealing with, you will be able to gauge roughly the quantity of power they have at their disposal. If the aura is intense or looks unusual in any way, you’d better hope he or she likes you. Are you ready, Connie?”
Connie nodded nervously.
Snow walked around Connie as they spoke. “Remember now. Your celestial energy accumulation is practically nonexistent, so his spell will draw all of its energy from your native life force. Since this is only a simple, first-order spell, it does not require much energy, anyway.”
“What if I fail?”
Snow spoke from behind Connie. “Probably nothing. If you pervert it badly, you may have a brief spell of colorblindness—but that is all. №12 is a relatively safe and stable spell.” Snow paused. “Just do the incantation as I showed you, and things will be fine.”
“If things will be fine, why are you standing behind me?”
“Because when the spell drains you, you will become enormously weak. I’m here to catch you in case you pass out. No more questions. Close your eyes and begin,” she ordered.
Connie closed her eyes and did as she was told. She spoke the incantation and formed the double-jointed mental pattern needed to cast the spell. All at once, her head rang like someone struck it hard from the inside out. She stumbled backward. She felt Snow’s arms quickly grasp her waist as she lowered Connie to the floor. Now Connie’s head rang loudly as if someone were holding a tuning fork at each ear. Connie lay on the floor of the cottage. Connie kept her eyes tightly shut. She was afraid to open them. The ringing faded quickly. “Did it work?” she asked Snow.
Snow’s voice came from above Connie’s face. “I think so. I felt the flux of magic. Sit up and open your eyes. Then you will know if the spell was a success.”
Connie sat up and opened her eyes as Snow told her. Now Connie saw Snow; at least she thought it was Snow standing before her. Before she sat stood a humanoid shape bathed in a lovely, intensely white fog. Within the fog were brilliant white sparkles of metallic light. As the figure moved, these sparkles glittered and fell from the fog like snowflakes. In the torch-lit darkness of the cabin, the otherworldly magical light was strange, for it did not cast shadows but stood insular in the darkness like a beacon in the distance.
“The spell worked, didn’t it?” Snow’s voice said from someplace the brilliant white haze. “I can tell by the expression on your face.”
“Snow! I don’t know what to say! You look like an angel!”
“I’m not an angel; I’m only a woman.”
Snow waved to Connie from within the fog. Flecks of white light fell from her limbs. The flecks fell like snow.
“Now I know why Calicus calls you Snow!” Connie said, fascinated by the sight.
The sorceress smiled. “Very good! Now let us visit our companions.”
Snow and Connie went to the other cottage. There, sitting around the fire, she saw the auras of all her companions. None of their auras looked anything like Snow’s. Theo’s aura showed up as a lovely turquoise hue with some dark, shadowy streaks, which showed his connection with Tristana and her spirit of negative energy. Tristana’s aura, as she'd seen before, was a deep, velvety black with a tiny amount of blue thrown in—the humanity that time in the world had gifted her. And to her dismay, Rahl’s blue aura was smeared with splotches of yellow melancholy. He was thinking of his brother on this long night.
The spell wore off about twenty minutes later. Then exhilaration gave way to bone-weary exhaustion. Still, Connie was happy to have cast her first celestial spell.
Connie, Snow, and Tristana were sound asleep in their cottage when there came an insistent rapping on their door. Connie, who normally slept lightly, was the groggily last one off the cot.
The fire had gone out, and the cottage was dark and cold. “This had best be good,” Snow said, rising from the cot to put on her jacket.”
The insistent rapping came again. “I’m coming!” Snow said.
The sorceress opened the door. It was Theo. “Snow, you had best come quickly,” Theo panted with urgency.
“What is it?” Snow asked.
“Jalban and Maltokken! They’ve come back!”
“They have?” Snow asked with a bemused expression.
On hearing this, Connie perked up.
“Where are they?”
“They’re at the other cabin. He got back only a short while ago.”
“How about Yalden? Did he return?”
There came a brief pause. “Yalden was killed.”
Snow shook her head. “By the gods.”
Connie mentally repeated the same on hearing the news.
Theo swallowed hard. “Rahl is taking it badly, Snow. I fear for him. You’d better come quickly,” Theo said.
Without further ado, Snow left the cottage. Connie and Tristana were right behind them. Morning has not yet broken, so it was still dark. Connie stumbled across the unlit courtyard to the cottage. She heard a loud ruckus and banging from inside the cottage as she drew closer. Snow and Theo got there first, then Connie and Tristana arrived. Maltokken and Jalban sat on the ground outside the cottage. Rahl was angrily throwing the furniture around. The inside of the cottage was in shambles.
“Rahl!” Snow called at him. “Rahl! Calm down!”
“Go away!” he screamed at Snow. He picked up part of a broken stool and heaved it at her. Snow ducked away from the doorway.
“Poor Rahl!” Connie said, feeling his grief. “First Jenada, then his brother.”
The ruckus continued inside the cabin.
“Chaos is coming,” Maltokken cried out, terrified, from the ground outside the cottage.
“What did you say?” Snow asked.
“Chaos Death is near. We have to leave here, or we will die.”
“We’ve been running non-stop for days,” Jalban added. “We knew you were still here when we saw the yellow light on the mountain.”
Snow knitted her brow. “What yellow light?”
“I think he means the enchantment on the aircraft,” Connie said. “I never considered it might be bright enough to be seen from a distance.”
“Indeed, it shines as a beacon,” Jalban said. “Without it, we might not have been able to find our way back to you.”
“How far away is the Chaos?” the sorceress asked them, her voice tense. “One league? Ten? How far?”
Jalban answered, his voice trembling. “I do not know for certain, but we could not stop for long without smelling it.”
“And the monsters!” Maltokken gasped. His eyes grew wide as he relived the horror in his mind. “By the gods! It’s full of monsters. Hundreds of them—maybe thousands of them! Horrible, fanged, slithery things. Like a nightmare come to life. One of them got Yalden. It had six arms with claws and a mouth in its belly. He thought he could fight it. It caught him and ripped him in two. He screamed in agony as it happened.”
“Did you tell Rahl what you just told us?” Snow asked him.
“Yes, he wanted to know.”
Snow glared at the fighter. “I should turn you to ashes for that, Maltokken.”
He lowered his eyes.
“Yalden!” they heard Rahl cry out in anguish from inside the cottage.
“He probably feels responsible,” Theo said.
Snow sighed “I could cast a spell on him to calm him, but he has natural protection against celestial spells, as did his brother. I always need a lot of energy to overcome it, and we might need that energy for tomorrow.” She turned to Jalban. “Is there some elixir you can give him to calm him?”
“I do, but I don’t want to go near him. He’ll chop me in two.”
“How about you, Theo?”
“I have a spell that will cause him to sleep. He won’t be able to resist it.”
“That’s good.”
“I can also make him forget what Maltokken told him.”
“No. He must remember the truth,” Snow said. “Go, Theo. Cast your spell on Rahl to bring him peace.”
Theo nodded once. He stepped into the cottage while the four others waited outside, listening. Rahl shouted at Theo to leave. There came the sound of breaking furniture, then the cottage went quiet. Theo appeared at the doorway a few moments later.
“He is all yours,” the spirit mage told them.
Snow and Connie entered the cottage. Rahl lay sprawled, unconscious, in the middle of the room. They picked him up, righted his cot, and laid him down on it. Connie noticed tears of blood had streamed down his now peaceful face, an occasional peculiarity of Cerinyan physiology.
“He broke my cot,” Theo said as he stared despairingly at his broken bed.
“You can have mine,” Snow said, tenderly dabbing Rahl’s face with a wet rag.
Seeing there was very little more she could do, Connie exited the cottage. She gazed at the sky. The first faint traces of morning light made their appearance to the east. She crouched next to Jalban. “How far did you make it back?”
“We made it to the river,” he said.
Connie smiled. “Did you really run for three days straight, Jalban, or are you pulling my leg?”
Jalban looked into the distance as though caught in a trance. “If you had seen what we’d seen, you would have run too.”
Connie sat on a stool by the tail of the plane to wait for the sunrise. She placed her hand on the warm metal. She and Snow would have to elevate the level of Push enchantment to gain enough forward force to fly the plane with the weight of two more passengers. Unfortunately, they had no extra nodes to spare. They needed to acquire more. She hoped they would be able to get them quickly, because even if they had them, it would take a few days to add them to the enchantment.
She stared across the valley, which was still shrouded by night. This morning, mountains in the south and eastern horizons seemed darker and less distinct than usual, as though they were shrouded in a dark haze. When the light of daybreak illuminated the valley from where Jalban and Maltokken had come, she stood up in alarm. She called out the other party members from the main cabin. All but Rahl were there in under a minute. Now they stood with Connie overlooking the valley, staring in horror at the surreal sight below.
“By the gods,” Jalban said under his breath.
“Chaos approaches,” Theo said.
To Connie, it appeared that someone was slowly pouring ink into the valley with its level slowly rising. Chaos Death had flooded the valley, and now inky tendrils of black mist were slowly creeping up the mountainside toward them in their abandoned village.