A Dead God's Tear (The Netherwalker Trilogy) (21 page)

Alicia nodded. "It has its limits of course, but far more room
than any mere pack. It also has all my supplies, books and such that I brought with me to Rhensford. Needless to say, it saves a fortune on shipping costs, since I don't have to pay for a boat to transport my things. My clothing is also enchanted by a friend of mine to weather the effects of hard travel, such as heat, cold, dirt and the like," she looked Jared in the eye pointedly. "I might also add, it was Marcius's fire spell that started the very fire we are all huddled around."

"Why didn't you enchant
it yourself?" Jared said, ignoring the later part of the Mage's comment and tossing the pack deftly back to her. Marcius noticed his friend kept the jerky for himself, though. Marcius had to hide a derisive snort, it was obvious that his friend was now just deliberately goading the proud woman, and that he had managed to help himself to second helpings in the same swift stroke! Though the food wasn't great, the quantity they had been eating wasn't nearly enough to really satisfy. Silently, Marcius both applauded and was jealous of his devious friend's methods.

Alicia, apparently growing tired of the conversation and of answering questions, responded simply by laying down on her bedroll, and pulling the covers over herself until only her head was showing. She
used the pack as a makeshift pillow. "Marc, you have first watch as usual," she said curtly before closing her eyes and turning her back to the two of them in the same motion. Marcius didn't mind, he preferred to take the first watch anyway, since he hated interruptions when he slept.

"Well, you could've at least answered the question
. . . " Jared mumbled to the back of the Mage, however she gave no indication that she heard him. With a sigh and a shrug, the blonde swordsman pulled up his own blankets. "I'll take second watch." he muttered, already half asleep.

"As usual," Marcius quietly finished for Jared as the blonde man took refuge under the covers. With a sigh of his own, he stood up and sat on a nearby log, far enough away as to not disturb his frien
ds, but close enough to keep an eye on things. The chilly night air was quick to take advantage, and Marcius shivered a bit in response. He enjoyed the cold though; it would keep him awake.

Good night, Marc,
said Faerril, the covers to his bed roll shifting as the invisible familiar worked his way into a comfortable position.

You too. Sleep well.

You know, I don't like leaving you alone.
The familiar said.
I worry about you.
Thanks to the link between them, Marcius felt the half yawn the creature gave as it slowly succumbed to the pull of sleep.

I'm okay. You don't have to worry about me. Just a bit confused with life at the moment.

You're a terrible liar, Marc.
The voice was a faint whisper in his mind's eye, the end part trailing off into nothingness. A moment later it disappeared completely, though the bond was there in the back of Marcius head, sated but still tangible. Faerril was now asleep; a small bundle of nothing in Marcius's bed roll.

Time passed slowly without something to occupy his attention, ea
ch agonizing second seemed to last forever as Marcius watched the Wayfarer-a bright, orange-tinged star travelers could use to tell time by its position in the night sky, cross the heavens. Truly, this had to be the worst and best part about traveling all in one package. To be alone with your thoughts, with nothing but the gentle crackle of the fire and the sounds of the forest to keep you company. It was a period to reflect on the path that got you here and of memories past. Though, too often one does not like what they see.

He found his thoughts shifting frequently to the words of his familiar and Jared. Both of them had been supportive, steadfast in their belief that he could somehow make this all work. Alicia, on the other hand, didn't seem all that opti
mistic, but grudgingly admitted it was a possibility. She seemed more interested in getting to the bottom of whoever was manipulating the Academy. Marcius could understand her feelings. Nothing rankled more than the proverbial slap in the face of being jerked around on a chain like some dog.

He pushed such thoughts away from the forefront of his mind. He didn't want to dwell on what had happened, or what was to happen either. Marcius was half tempted to wake up his familiar, still sleeping soundly in his be
d roll, merely for the added companionship and distraction. He resisted that urge though. If he couldn't do something as simple as this by himself, he probably couldn't go through the rest of his plan either, despite what Jared and Faerril said. Plus, the tiny wyvrr was obviously tired. It was hard for his short legs to keep up with the horses from the ground.

Instead, he switched to conjuring small spells from the even smaller repertoire of ones that he had learned before his Master's death. He meant to ke
ep his magical expertise in shape anyway, that way he would be prepared for when he got to the Academy. The ability of magic was one part of a wizard's energy, used with the guiding of the correct sigils and words. The energy would serve as a thread that held the nether together to form the spell. This, of course, drained the wizard, but it was akin to a muscle. One could work it and become stronger, allowing more powerful spells to be cast more frequently.

As he stared at the small ball of fire rotating sl
owly in his palm, he still couldn't believe this was the result of his own power. Though the spell was taxing to keep sustained and he was already starting to feel a bit tired for his effort, Marcius knew he only had to fling it in a direction for it to expand and then explode upon impact, no doubt bringing devastation in its wake.

Instead, using his nether sight as a guide, he slowly began to unravel the spell, pulling out the strands that held it together as one might the stitching of an article of clothi
ng. It slowly became smaller and smaller as the swirling eventually stopped, giving one last stutter of defiance before winking out of existence. The dispersal of energy was a veritable nova to his nether enhanced eyes.

"That was pretty nice Marc, very imp
ressive," Jared whispered from right behind the apprentice's ear, chuckling as Marcius gave a brief jump of surprise.

His friend had somehow managed to sneak up behind him. Did the time pass so quickly that it was already Jared's turn to stand watch? Look
ing up at the Wayfarer, Marcius saw this was not the case. "Though, I do say, I thought you were supposed to be standing guard? Not sure if I can sleep as soundly knowing you are doing this instead. Kind of figured the whole point of being on watch was to watch?" The smile on Jared's face disarmed the jibe though as he sat down next to Marcius, tossing his friend something in the process. Marcius caught the object, which turned out to be half of the dried beef Jared had 'liberated' from the Mage's pack. It seemed as if he hadn't intended to eat it all by himself after all.

"Hah, I know you practice your swordplay during your watch!"

Jared nodded, not even bothering to argue the point. Instead he just sat there with his elbows on his knees, watching the camp as he chewed on the strip of jerky thoughtfully. Marcius turned to his friend. "So, why are you up? You still have about half an hour before your turn."

"Couldn't sleep," he responded simply. Having finished his food, Jared picked up a small pebble, turnin
g it around in his hand a few times before throwing it lazily into the woods. There was a brief thump of it ricocheting off something in the darkness. He reached down for another.

"Why'd you do it?" Marcius finally asked, interrupting his friend's search f
or a new rock.

"Do what?"

"You know what. Why'd you provoke Alicia?" Marcius clarified.

"Oh," Jared looked a bit disappointed, "I thought you were going to ask why I came along with you."

"I assume it was because you are looking for adventure so you can be a hero or something like that. Chasing after your own goals even as you help me with mine."

"Am I that transparent?"  the swordsman asked, mimicking a 'shot through the heart' motion, though the look in the blonde man's eyes showed Marcius his remark had
hit close to the truth.

"You really are. I don't mind. It's nice to have your best friend with you. Now stop changing the subject and answer the question."

Jared chuckled. "Not sure really. I just can't stand this invisible barrier between us three. It's suffocating. I figure if we were all friends, the trip would go a lot smoother."

"Annoying, and possibly getting her to hate us, is a funny way to become friends."

"One must tear down before one can rebuild," Jared replied with a cocky grin. "As long as we treat her as a friend, more importantly a person, she'll warm up to us."

Marcius couldn't really refute that logic, though the methods were still questionable. His friend wasn't done though. "Also, Marc, don't mistake my need to go out there and live a lif
e of adventure with wanting to be a hero. Being a hero isn’t something I’m cut out for."

"Isn't it one and the same?"

Jared snorted dismissively. "Hardly. I seek adventure for myself. I'm not someone who you can trust with your troubles. Last thing I want is the burden of another person's hopes and dreams. It's a greedy way to look at things, but that is how I feel."

"Why else adventure?"

The blonde man stood up, pacing and thoughtfully stroking the ragged blonde fuzz that passed for a goatee as he considered Marcius's question. "Why not?" he said, pausing after a few moments of deliberation. "I've been doing a lot of thinking about this, ever since I found you in the clearing. At first, being a hero was indeed my goal. Truly, it was why I started even learning swordplay. I had this notion of saving damsels in distress, having kings seek me out for council, and epic battles at faraway places. But now I have become a bit wiser, I think. Now I just want to have my name known, to feel the taste of excitement on my lips. The rush that you get from accomplishing something, of leaving your mark on the world. What I know I don't want is the normal ho-hum life most people embrace. I feel like I am destined for something greater. The life of a peasant is not for me. Why do you want to learn magic, Marc? Is it not for the same reason? I mean, it had to be more than just a strange hobby, especially considering how people feel about it."

"I'm not sure," Marcius admitted. "I enjoy it, to be sure. I used to think I knew why
I wanted to, but now I am not so sure anymore. Seeing the bad side of something you love. . . " His voice trailed off for a few seconds. "Dryken damn me if I even know why I agreed to your crazy plan!"

The blonde man smiled, wrapping his arm around Marcius
’s shoulders and drawing him close. "Well, when your reason becomes known to you, when you find your muse, your inspiration, perhaps we will come to an understanding as to why we both accepted this journey." His other hand waved in front of Marcius, indicating the sky above them. “Now, go to bed. I'll take watch a bit early this evening.”

Numbly, Marcius agreed, mumbling his thanks for both the food and the company as he shuffled by Jared. The words his friend had spoken weighed heavily with each step back
to camp. Why had he been so quick to agree? Why did he feel such a strong need to take vengeance on those who had ruined his plan in life? Why was magic the first in his mind when he woke up, and the last thing when he went to sleep?

It didn't even make se
nse. Magic had technically ruined his life and hurt those who he had held dear, so why was he out here chasing after it like some love sick fool?

No answers conveniently fell in his lap, and before he knew it, he found himself curled under the covers of h
is bedroll, gently prodding the sleeping familiar aside until there was room. It didn't take long for the hardships of the day to collect their dues, and the young apprentice soon drifted off to a fitful, albeit sound, slumber. Last thing he saw as he closed his eyes was the form of Jared Garalan going through various attack routines, the long blade of his flashing sword in the distant glow of the fire.

For some reason, this brought a measure of peace to the troubled young apprentice.

Nobody from the camp noticed the beady green eyes hungrily watching with rapt interest from the shadows of the bushes. . .

Chapter 12

T
he figure ran through the dark Solokovian woods, its steps fast, yet light, as to leave neither trace nor noise. Not even the gentlest dusting of leaves and fallen twigs that littered the ground gave warning to its passing. The breathing came out in short, barely audible, measured gasps as the shadow weaved its way around trees and branches.
A clearing!
It paused, head high as if it was straining to hear some noise or perhaps see something off in the distance. The sharp eyes gleamed a dull yellow as it scrutinized the open space with uncharacteristic studiousness. Finding nothing amiss, it continued; picking the fastest route through the underbrush like a fish in water.

It warily crossed the clearing, as time was of the es
sence and the movements were one part urgency and two parts excitement. Had an observer been present, they would have noticed the shadow from the pale moonlight was revealed, in fact, to be a goblin, the creature's midsection covered in what barely passed for dirty rags.

The form was gangly, standing at almost six hands tall and probably only around forty some pounds. Physically the goblin race was deemed fairly weak. They were not considered pretty, usually a sickly
color, like fresh vomit, long noses with even longer ears, and ragged tufts of hair and warts in odd places. Hygiene wasn't on the top of their lists, so one could usually expect the package to be completed with a foul stench of sweat and grime. Much couldn't be said for their intelligence either.

Generally goblins were a simple lot with simple needs. The problem stemmed that most of the time the needs were gotten at the expense of others. If a goblin could get something easily, they would take it. If they
could get it easily and cause some mischief in the process, all the better.

This particular goblin held all the characteristics and went by the name of Squibs. Even as he hurried to report the information he had gathered, a feral grin managed to worm its w
ay on his face, showing a row of pointed yellow teeth that gleamed menacingly in the moonlight. No doubt the Boss would reward him for being so clever! It would assure his spot as the number one goblin amongst the band.

Of course, Squibs was the only gobli
n, but cause and effect had never been his strong suit, so that fact was lost on him. Squibs was eager to please, for though the Boss was tough, he was also fair. He treated even Squibs as an equal. In an age that goblins were looked upon as either a resource to exploit or just plain disgust, it wasn't something the goblin was initially used to. But he knew he liked it.

Liked it enough to brave spying on a group of wizards, even!

The fact that the Boss hated wizards made it all the sweeter! Squibs didn't like the finger waggling demons either, since his former master had been one, a rather mean wizard to be specific. Squibs still carried the scars from that period of his life. Maybe he could manage to salvage a souvenir when the Boss was done with them? A finger or ear perhaps? He did need a new trophy to adorn his necklace, after all. It took all the meager willpower Squibs possessed to not rub his hands together in unfeigned glee.
Oh, yes!
The reward would be grand, but secretly Squibs yearned even more for the honest praise he would receive.

Even a goblin has feelings.

❧
　❧　❧

"We're being followed," Alicia stated, the proclamation coming as a complete surprise to both Jared and Marcius, for they had been traveling for a couple of hours and had seen no indication of anybody else even being around. The forest seemed to edge even closer at the words, as if they too were part of the plot. It made the narrow trail they were riding appear all the more claustrophobic. They already were ducking under stray branches and limbs as it was. "Just keep riding, show no signs that we know this."

"How do you know?" Jared whispered back, concern etched in his face and voice. He gently prodded his horse forward a bit, as close as he c
ould comfortably get to the woman. The brown horse nickered with annoyance.

"My familiar told me. I've set him to watch us from above every day since we've started this. Apparently our 'friends' have been following us for about an hour now."

"Your. . . familiar. . . " Jared echoed. It hadn't really occurred to him that Alicia would have one too. In fact, he had completely forgotten about Marcius's familiar. Where were these tiny creatures? He hadn't seen a trace of them since they started this journey. "Damn wizards and their secrets. . . " he muttered under his breath.

"What do they want? Why are they following us?" Marcius asked, bringing up the rear, a slight tinge of uneasiness beginning to creep into his voice.

Both Alicia and Jared stared back at the apprentice with a look of disbelief. "Marc," the blonde swordsman started, speaking slowly, "think about it. We are travelers. All alone. In the middle of the wilderness. What do you
think
they want to do? Shake our hand and share campfire stories? They're bandits, Marc!"

Marcius swallowed. "That's what I was afraid of.”

"Eh, buck up. We've got a wizard, an apprentice, and a great swordsman. We'll be fine if we play our cards right." Jared smiled back, which did much to alleviate the feeling of terror that was beginning to latch its icy grip on Marcius's thoughts and actions. "So, what's the plan, Alicia?" The blonde man continued calmly, as if he was discussing something as trivial as what was for dinner. He shifted around on his horse to face the Mage.

Don't worry Marc. We will be fine,
Faerril echoed
. The bandits won't know what hit them! They deal with wizards this day, not mere peasants or hapless merchants!

I hope so, Faerril. It'd be very much of a letdown if my journey ended before it really began.

Marcius could feel the swirling orbs of his familiar's stare, the anger from the creature palpable in the hot afternoon.
The sun will set with a few less bandits to worry travelers.
The familiar promised darkly.

A statement which surprised Marcius, for the vehemence in the tone was very uncharacteristic of the tiny creature. He turned in disbelief to the tree line, to where he knew the wyvrr was using the trees as a method of travel, darting among the branches li
ke a cat.

Where did you learn such mannerisms?

Where else? From you. After all, our minds are one. I know what you know. I am what you are. Perhaps a bit more, but certainly no less.

"You got that, Marc?" Jared intoned, looking back at Marcius and breaking
the apprentice from his startling internal conversation.

"Hm? Sorry, I was talking with my familiar."

Alicia waved off the apology. "Don't worry about it. Your role in this is basically to stay out of it."

Without knowing why, Marcius found himself bristli
ng at the way the Mage had said that. As if he was insignificant, or too stupid to be of use. "Excuse me? Why is this?" he asked, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice.

"You're an apprentice, with little to no training in casting under pressure. Pl
us the amount of spells you probably have learned is either not useful or too specific to deal with a battle. You'd get in the way," Alicia responded bluntly.

"A fireball can help," Marcius said simply.

"A fireball can hit friend or foe, and a botched fireball helps nobody. Just listen to me, alright? Jared will have to guard me as I cast, so his hands are tied. Just stay near to us and, more importantly, stay out of it," the Mage countered in a voice that indicated the debate was now over.

Marcius sighed i
n defeat, allowing his horse to drift a bit further behind the pair. His hackles were still figuratively raised, as if Alicia’s comment was a personal attack, and he hated allowing her the last word on the matter.

But he also knew she was right. He couldn
't see himself being able to cast even the simplest spell when some gruff bandit was swinging a sword in his direction. Messing up a single arcane sign or even tripping up a syllable could mean disaster. Marcius remembered several of Antaigne's warnings of what had happened to wizards when their spells went awry. If one was lucky, death was the only thing they would get for messing up.

Still, the other side of his brain reasoned, she didn't have to brush him off! He was not some petulant child, someone to b
e scolded and told what to do every step of the way! He could help! No, he vowed silently, if the opportunity presented itself, he would show them exactly what he was capable of. He would earn their respect.

He'd just have to wait until it was safe to do
so. No sense in taking unnecessary risks and doing exactly what they warned him might happen. They were doing this damn journey for him anyway! All in a bid to hopefully get to the bottom of whatever plot Marcius had unwillingly become a part of. If he couldn't get his own friends to treat him as an equal partner in this endeavor, he had the feeling he was destined to fail.

A still brooding Marcius noticed the mage was sitting strangely stiff in her saddle, allowing the horse to pick its own way along the t
hin trail with only an occasional nudge to keep it moving. Her mouth was moving unintelligibly and her hands moved quickly yet discreetly, forming what Marcius realized were sigils. He spurred the horse forward a bit just to make sure. After a few seconds it was confirmed. She was casting! Acting on a hunch, Marcius allowed his eyes to slip into the realm of the nether, the waves of now revealed energy rippling around him. As he suspected, several "nodes" of the nether swirled around the Mage, encased in intense white energy. Alicia's energy.

They are spells
, Marcius realized as he studied the orbs, ready to be released at a moment’s notice.
So, those are quick cast spells. . .
Marcius thought, remembering the last lesson he had with Antaigne. He watched as the rich energy of the nether tried to break free from one of the tethers, but Alicia was quick to rein it in, her own white energy smothering it before it could escape. Marcius thought back to how hard it was for him to maintain a simple fireball, and here was Alicia holding several spells at bay that were most likely more powerful than a fireball. Humbled by this display of power, Marcius found his respect for the woman had grown, though the anger still remained.

"Alright, according to Karhol, and as I su
spected, there is a larger band waiting in ambush further down the trail," Alicia whispered, her voice somewhat strained, no doubt from the exertion of maintaining the quick casts. "What I don't get is why do they have so many waiting for us? Karhol says they have at least a dozen and a half. We are only a small group and they can't know that we are wizards. . . it just doesn't make sense," she added, her brow scrunching up in puzzlement.

"Perhaps they just ambush whoever goes down this trail? No matter the
number?" Jared offered.

"Maybe
. . . " Alicia still seemed doubtful.

"Why don't we turn around, kill or escape from the ones following us, then avoid the larger band?" Marcius whispered.

The Mage shook her head, "The ones following us were probably sent for exactly that reason. Most likely to serve as a signal if we do anything suspicious."

"Still, if we can avoid them, I think we should."

"That's not—"

"
—an option, Marc." Jared interrupted, finishing the sentence for the Mage, which caused the woman to click her tongue in agitation. "We can't give up the knowledge that we are expecting them. The value of surprise is huge in something like this. We can't play the game on their terms, or else we very well could wind up dead. Running isn't possible either. They probably know these woods far better than we do. The trails are much too dangerous to take full advantage of our horses and they could have horses as well. I'd rather end it here and now, than worry about them sneaking up on us in the dead of night."

Though the blonde man's words rang with truth, Marcius didn't have to even look at Jared's face to know that an eager smile would be plastered on it, behind twinkling
amber eyes. Jared was looking forward to this. He would seek out the encounter despite other options being available. It was the adventure the swordsman dreamed about every day. He could see the profile of Alicia on her horse in front of him. She, too, sat erect in her saddle, alert and poised, her attractive face flushed with budding excitement. Marcius felt his heart flutter a bit at sight of her, but he shook that thought as soon as it formed.