Chaos Descending (4 page)

“Excuse me,” Brianna said, hoping to move past the woman.

“You’re not welcome here,” the woman said.

Brianna stepped back. Her association with the pride of dragons was not widely accepted in the village. Few, if any, of the townspeople had seen her flying with the pride, but the rumors were rampant. And while Zollin was able to build trust by healing people, Brianna had mostly stayed away from the village that had been destroyed by a dragon.

“I’m just trying to find Quinn,” Brianna said.

“He ain’t here,” the woman snarled. “And we don’t need you here either.”

“I’ll be on my way then.”

Brianna turned but there were two women behind her. They were both large, both unattractive. She knew their type, having been bullied as a child by women just like the ones blocking her path. What they lacked in beauty they made up for in brute strength and cruelty.

“Maybe we should make it clear just how unwanted you are,” the large woman in front of Brianna said.

The first blow came from behind Brianna, and she was expecting it. She could have killed the women, conjuring flames that would have engulfed their fat bodies and sent them screaming from the alley. She could have turned the ground into molten rock and slipped into the earth, using her incredible power over fire to swim through solid rock. But she didn’t want to hurt anyone, and she didn’t want to add any more rumors about her powers to the village. If they saw her disappear into the ground they would surely think she was a devil of some kind.

Brianna ducked, letting the first punch fly harmlessly over her head, and then she sprang upward. She could have jumped over the women, but instead she landed on the first woman’s shoulders, pausing just long enough for the move to register on the women’s faces, then jumped again, twisting in mid air and landing lightly on a nearby rooftop. Another flip sent her to the far side of the building where she was hidden from sight by the roof’s peak. She dashed away, staying low and looking for a place where she might drop back to the ground without being seen.

There was shouting in the alleyway, but the large women couldn’t run fast enough to catch Brianna, and it only took a moment before the women were out of breath. They gave up the chase easily enough and Brianna took the opportunity to drop down between two houses unseen and continued on her way as if nothing had happened.

She walked quickly to where a group of men were looking up at a building’s roof, trying to decide if they had missed anything. She saw Mansel, who was larger than most of the other men. She walked quietly up beside him and waited.

“You look like you’ve been up to no good,” he said, without ever taking his eyes off the roof.

“Is it that obvious?” she asked.

“A little mischief looks good on you.”

“Well, I didn’t do anything but avoid some unpleasant people as I was searching for you.”

“Me?” Mansel asked. “What do you need me for? Did Zollin break something he can’t fix?”

“No, but we’re both in town. We wanted to see you and Quinn.”

“Buy me an ale and you can see me all you want. We’re finished here.”

“It’s a nice roof,” Brianna said.

“Of course it is,” Mansel said. “Strong, too. We’re just waiting for the owner to approve.”

“When you’re finished, you can meet us at the Inn.”

Mansel grunted and Brianna turned away. She was anxious to get off the streets and avoid any more unpleasant confrontations. Mansel had said she liked mischief, and that was true to a certain extent. She didn’t like being bored, but she wasn’t looking for trouble. If there was a glow to her looks, it came from her excitement to be traveling again. That’s what she was looking forward to most. And her reception in the alley made her realize they couldn’t leave soon enough.

Chapter 4

The market in Brighton’s Gate stood on the foundation of the old Gateway Inn, which had been in the process of being rebuilt when Bartoom had destroyed the town. The owner had left the Great Valley, and the large foundation was now covered with small booths where merchants sold their wares. Since most of the shops in the town had been destroyed by the dragon’s attack, the market was the best place for Zollin to find what he needed. His first stop was at a leatherworker’s booth.

“Horace,” Zollin said happily as he approached the older man sitting at a table carving designs into a piece of leather that would eventually become a saddle. “Is it ready?”

“Of course, of course,” the man named Horace said. “I have it here.”

He lifted a large bundle and set it on top of a display table. Zollin moved forward and inspected what was essentially a large set of saddlebags. The bags were much too big to be carried by a horse, and the leather was stiff but sturdy. The straps between the bags were much longer than normal as well. And the large flaps that covered the bags were edged with several long leather thongs that would be used to tie the bags closed.

“What do you think?” Horace asked.

“They’re perfect,” Zollin said. “Thank you so much.”

“It’s the least I could do,” the leather worker said. “You saved our Rodicka. I don’t know what we’d have done without you.”

“It was my pleasure, and we are even,” Zollin said, sticking out his hand.

Horace shook it heartily, and Zollin tucked the oversized saddle bags under his arm. His next stop was the bakery. Zollin knew how to bake bread, but he didn’t have the patience for it. He had healed several people in the village during the past year, and had bartered for various goods in the process. From the bakery he picked up three dozen small, hard loaves for their trip.

He was buying salted meat from another vendor when a small crowd started to form behind him. Many of the townsfolk preferred to keep their distance from Zollin, at least until someone sick was brought to him. When Zollin turned around he found a desperate looking father holding a small child in his arms. The baby was covered in bright red bumps and his breathing was labored. The crowd leaned in close to see what Zollin would do.

“Please sir, help us,” the father said.

“I will, don’t worry,” Zollin said.

“We’ve no money to pay you,” said the mother, who was wringing her hands nervously from behind her husband.

“What do you do?” Zollin asked.

“I’m a cobbler by trade,” the man said.

“And I sew,” his wife added.

“Okay, perhaps new boots then,” Zollin said. “And maybe some baby clothes?”

Murmuring broke out in the crowd that had gathered to see the wizard heal the sick child. Zollin hoped the rumors wouldn’t ruin the surprise of telling his father that Brianna was pregnant. Still, he didn’t have to worry long. When the man laid his child in Zollin’s arms, he could feel the poor baby’s temperature. The delicate skin was incredibly hot to the touch. Brianna’s internal temperature was always high, but her skin felt supple and warm. The baby’s skin felt thin and papery, the heat radiating from the poor child’s body like embers after a fire.

Zollin closed his eyes and summoned his power. The magic stirred deep within him. When he had first learned to use magic, even the simplest of spells exhausted him, but in time he’d learned to build a magical containment around the deep reservoir of power that both shielded his physical body from the strain of his magic and kept his power from resonating to other magical users. The heat of his healing spell felt good as it flowed through him and into the baby. He immediately felt the foreign organisms attacking the poor child. They were incredibly tiny, yet they spread through the baby’s entire body, leaching the life from the defenseless child's vital organs.

His magic acted like a net, filtering the sickness out of the baby’s body. It was slow work, but not too arduous. Once he had the sickness contained, he turned the baby onto its stomach and caused the tiny child to vomit. The baby had been lethargic, but once it spit up the sickness, which looked almost like blood, it began to cry. Zollin put the child on his shoulder, ignoring the concern on the parents’ faces, and let his magic sweep through the baby again. The fever was already diminishing on its own, but Zollin gave the organs and muscles a magical boost. Then he healed the child’s skin, erasing the bumps with his mind to ensure they didn’t leave any scars.

“Here you go,” Zollin said, handing the child back to its parents. It had stopped crying and was looking around the crowd happily.

“You did it,” the father said.

Zollin nodded.

“He healed our baby!” the father shouted, holding his child up.

“It was nothing, really,” Zollin said. “Please don’t make a scene. Take your child home.”

The crowd, which had grown as Zollin worked, parted and the little family left the market. Zollin turned back to the vendor and picked up his order of salted meat. He still needed cheese, butter, some herbs, and a few vegetables that weren’t growing in his own garden, but he decided he would wait until the crowd broke up. He thanked the vendor and hurried away.

The Valley Inn looked almost like it had when he had first come to the lower range of the Northern Highlands with Quinn, Brianna, and Mansel. They had been running for their lives then, banking on the winter snows to seal the passes and keep the wizards of the Torr at bay for the season. The Valley Inn had been his first home in Brighton’s Gate. It was still a place of shelter and the regular meeting place when Zollin came to see his father.

Quinn had built a small home at the edge of town, but it was little more than a workshop with a bed. He spent most of his evenings at the inn, which was the most popular gathering place for the townspeople. Zollin slipped into the large—almost sprawling—building’s common room. The Valley Inn was a simple structure, with a low roof and a wing of comfortable guest rooms. The central part of the inn was a broad common room with long tables and a massive fireplace at one end. The kitchen and storage rooms occupied one wing, and a barn was situated just behind the main structure.

Ollie, the innkeeper’s wife, was busy in the kitchen, and her husband Buck was in the middle of a hushed conversation with a group of townsfolk. They sat near the fireplace which was bright and cheery, their heads close together as they leaned across the table with mugs of ale held close to their chests. Zollin moved to his usual place on the far side of the common room. He sat facing the door, and leaned his back against the wall as he sat on the bench.

Ellie, the innkeeper’s daughter, appeared out of the kitchens with a mug of frothy ale and a small loaf of bread, which she brought over to Zollin. She smiled and nodded her head as she set the food down on the long table, then hurried away. Zollin still felt a little embarrassed around Ellie. She had hoped to win his affection, but he had turned her down, and even though she never acted as if she held his rejection against him, he couldn’t help but feel bad whenever he saw her.

He didn’t have to wait long before Brianna arrived. She looked vibrant as she slipped into the large common room. There were small windows near the rafters overhead, but the inn’s roof was low, and the sunlight that entered the common room was feeble. Still, Zollin felt as if the room was somehow brighter and cheerier with Brianna there. She sauntered over and stood across the table from Zollin.

“Is this seat taken?” she asked.

“I was saving it for you.”

“Smart man. I think I’ll keep you.”

“Lucky me,” Zollin said.

Brianna leaned forward and kissed him. He could smell her sun-warmed skin and the scent of flowers in her hair.

“Is your girlfriend here?” Brianna asked.

“Don’t,” Zollin pleaded.

“You aren’t still embarrassed, are you?”

“A little, yes.”

“Your blood still stains the floor. Does that embarrass you too?”

“It’s not a pleasant memory,” Zollin said.

“No, not pleasant, but I cherish those memories just the same. Life was so different then.”

“I was strong and now I’m weak.”

“Don’t,” Brianna said. “You aren’t weak and you know it.”

“I’m not as powerful as I was then.”

“But you’re wiser. Besides, you don’t need to be powerful.”

“Did you find Quinn?”

“I found Mansel. They’ll be along soon.”

Brianna tore the loaf of bread in half and took a bite. Zollin had noticed an increase in her appetite. His own magic had once made him ravenous, but his containment lessened the way his power drained him physically. Brianna had always been a light eater, but now he realized she was eating for two.

They didn’t have to wait long for Quinn and Mansel to arrive. Quinn looked roubust, but older as well; his skin was deeply tanned and his short hair had turned completely gray. The other men in the inn all welcomed him, which didn’t surprise Zollin. His father had always been a social person, and since he spent a majority of his free time with the other townsfolk, he had been accepted as one of their own.

Mansel, on the other hand, was treated with respect, but the young warrior didn’t make friends easily. He spent most of his time in the small home he’d built close to the river for his lover, Nycol. When he did come into town it was either to work with Quinn or to drink, which he took very seriously.

Ellie returned with more mugs and a pitcher of ale. Mansel immediately poured himself a drink and hunched forward over it, as if he were afraid someone might take it away from him.

“Can I just have some water, please?” Brianna asked.

Ellie nodded, then hurried away. When Quinn finally sat down, he smiled at Zollin.

“So, what brings you into town?”

“We have news,” Zollin said.

Quinn took the mug of ale that Mansel handed him. He sipped a little, then looked up expectantly.

“Do you want to tell him?” Zollin asked Brianna.

She leaned close to Quinn. “You’re going to be a grandfather.”

The look of pride that lit up Quinn’s face made Zollin emotional. Quinn started laughing happily and threw his arms around Brianna, who hugged him back. Mansel even managed to smile.

“Congratulations,” he said.

“Thanks,” Zollin said.

“A baby!” Quinn bellowed. “That’s wonderful news. When?”