season avatars 01 - seasons beginnings (28 page)

plank and stretching his arm until he nearly dislocated his shoulder was

he able to touch the hole. He found the ice first. As Domina had prom-

ised, she hadn’t frozen all of the water, but it still stole warmth and

flexibility from his fingers. The cap was slightly smaller than his hand.

When Kron touched the edge of the wood, he could feel what Janno had

described. The wood crumbled under his touch like cheese. Underneath

the physical damage he could feel the oily magic of Salth. Or was it

hers? Something about it felt different. But Kron had no time to ponder

the difference. The ice plug Domina had created slipped out of the hole.

The cursed wood wouldn’t be able to accept a patch until he removed

Salth’s magic.

Domina’s eyes were shut, a sign she was probably still trying to

make another ice plug for the hole. Was anyone else on the boat?

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“Can someone bring me my bag from the cabin?” he called.

When no one answered, he grumbled and extracted his arm from the

hole, then struggled to his feet. He might not be as old as Galia, but he

felt like it tonight. There was a noticeable tilt in the deck as he made his

way to the cabin. Even with a glow stone, it took him longer than he

wanted to find something that would contain Salth’s magic. He settled

for an empty perfume bottle with a clay stopper. He rolled the bottle in

his hands, enhancing its strength, as he returned to the boat’s bow.

Domina’s eyes were open. “I lost the ice cap, and I can’t make an-

other one.” she told him, hugging her knees to her chest.

“Let me disenchant the wood first before you try it again. Do you

think you could remove the water?”

“My magic isn’t about water; it’s about...weather.” She gestured at

the sky. “I need more space, or sunlight, to do anything with it.”

“Then find some buckets. We’ll need to bail out some water after

I’m done.”

This time when he plunged his arm into the gap, water reached half-

way up to his elbow. The bottle resisted his efforts to force it next to the

hole, but since the bottle was only as long as his forefinger, he had

enough strength to overcome the repelling spell Salth had woven into

her curse. As soon as the bottle’s lip sank into the soft wood, Kron ex-

erted his own magic and pulled Salth’s curse into the bottle. Her magic

had no mass or form, but even so, the bottle felt heavier. When Kron

judged he’d captured the entire spell, he pulled the bottle away, capping

it as quickly as he could. Part of him wanted to hurl the bottle into the

river, but who knew how long the curse would have power? The bottle

could break, or the stopper come loose, leaving the curse free to damage

something else. For now, he’d label the bottle and keep it until Salth

was neutralized. Maybe then her magic would be harmless.

With effort, he worked his arm out of the gap in the deck. “Try seal-

ing the gap now,” he told Domina. “Janno was right; the wood around

the hole is rotten. He’ll have to replace it, and then the rest of you need

to bail out the water before we can continue our journey.”

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“Us? What about you?” she asked.

Kron sighed. “I need to sleep.”

C H A P T E R T W E N T Y

An Encounter

The group was able to resume travel by noon the next day. Kron

wasn’t sure if the Four had secretly intervened on their behalf, or if

Salth was reserving further attacks for when they approached her realm.

Either way, the challenges he and the Avatars had to cope with were

easier to deal with. Caye and Domina still squabbled about who should

sail the boat and who should break the ice, but they shared tips about

each task. Every day, the number of furlongs they sailed increased. This

was even more impressive because the land sloped gently upward, to-

ward the mountains. They passed fewer farms and villages as they drew

closer to the Western Mountains.

When Kron wasn’t needed, he claimed a space next to the cabin and

prepared more protective artifacts. With the boat rocking back and

forth—not to mention the sudden starts and stops—it was difficult to

keep his materials in place, let alone concentrate on assembling and en-

chanting them. At least the Winter Avatars kept the ship warm. Bella

sat with Kron, keeping him company, fetching supplies when they scat-

tered across the deck, and occasionally scouting ahead with birds.

“There’s a group of people traveling next to the river,” she an-

nounced one afternoon. “They’re heading toward us.”

Kron carefully coiled his gold wire before he snapped it. “How many

of them do you see? What do they look like, and how are they travel-

ling?”

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Bella closed her eyes for a few heartbeats. “It’s a large group, at least

fifty people, with a few horses and cattle. The animals are pulling wag-

ons, with women and a few children riding.”

A group of families would be less likely to fight than merchants or

soldiers. Kron instructed Caye to steer them closer to the opposite shore,

just in case.

The first few wagons appeared a short while later. From the way the

animals strained to pull them, the wagons had to be filled with every-

thing these people owned. Perhaps they were fleeing from Salth’s

destruction. Kron wondered if it might be worth speaking with these

people after all.

Bella clenched his arm. “Do you see how the driver is whipping that

team of horses? Can’t he tell they’re straining themselves already? I

should do something!”

“But what, Dearest? Tell them to lighten their wagon?” Kron stroked

his chin. Some stubble poked through his skin, but he wouldn’t need to

shave until the moon was full. “Actually, that’s not a bad idea. Perhaps

I could barter with them for more supplies. We can’t take anything too

big with us, but I might find something useful for an artifact anyway.”

He called to Caye, “I’ve changed my mind. We should sail closer to

them.”

“Now you tell me.” The boat leaned sharply as she turned it. “We

might overshoot them.”

Galia clutched the cabin door as she peeked out. “What’s going on?”

Kron pointed at the shore. “Travelers. A chance to trade and learn

more about what’s ahead.”

They were close enough to make out people’s faces. The group had

come to a halt, with a few wagons decorated with red-and-white trian-

gles catching up with them.

“I wonder if they have fresh food,” Galia said thoughtfully. “Even a

few herbs to season dinner would be welcome.”

A stout man waddled forward. He appeared to be only a few years

older than Kron. His robe of finely spun wool with stripes of scarlet and

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black stood out in the crowd of people dressed in brown. He carried a

staff decorated with fringe and bells. Kron studied it intently but

couldn’t detect any magic in it.

“You there, on the boat!” The man pointed his staff at Kron. “Are

you the leader?”

Galia mumbled something Kron couldn’t make out. He gestured at

her to remain silent and keep the other Avatars in the cabin. Until they

knew if the strangers were friendly or hostile, it was wise to keep their

numbers—and their talents—hidden.

He put on a smile. “I’m Kron Evenhanded, lately from Vistichia.

Who are you, and where are you from?”

“Lammar Marstud, father of the Mount Clan.” Lammar didn’t match

Kron’s friendly expression. “How does your boat sail so swiftly in the

middle of winter, especially when there is no wind?”

“I might ask why you and your clan wander during this dangerous

season.”

“Only because death has spread into our land. If you’re fleeing death

as well, then all of us are doomed.”

“Fear not, Lammar. This land still thrives.” Although the boat was

too far away for Lammar to board, Kron beckoned him forward, hoping

the gesture would encourage him to talk. “What sort of death stalks your

land? Another plague? Famine?”

“Both and neither,” Lammar answered. “This plague kills all life.

Everything ages and dies out of time.”

Kron fought to keep his expression still. This was definitely more of

Salth’s work, except for the fact that these people had somehow man-

aged to escape her. How had they done that when everything else in her

domain was dead or dying?

“I’d love to learn more about this dying land, and how you got away

before suffering a similar fate,” he said. “If you’ve time to spare, we

could come ashore and barter both goods and information.”

Lammar glanced up at the sky before answering. “Perhaps for a level

of the water clock. We need to find a suitable place to spend the night.”

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Kron directed Caye to bring them over to the bank. They had to sail

on a little farther until they found a tiny beach where they could disem-

bark. Kron searched through his materials for something he could part

with but still valuable enough to offer in barter.

“Food is always a good bartering tool,” Galia said. She sat in one of

the lower bunks, swaying as she watched him. “But is this a good idea,

Kron? We don’t know anything about these people.”

“I know they were exposed to Salth’s time magic but didn’t die.” He

hauled a jar of beer closer to the entrance. “If I can learn how they man-

aged that, I could get some new ideas how to protect us—and others.”

“Are you sure they don’t have magic of their own?”

“I’ll know for certain once I go on shore. The magic finder isn’t

reacting to them, but I might have to get closer if their magic is weak.”

He frowned as he thought about what he’d said. How could weak magic

survive an encounter with Salth’s strength? It couldn’t. Perhaps they

had some way to counter or neutralize magic. If so, he—and the Ava-

tars—would have to be even warier than they were now.

Galia tapped her fingers on the cabin wall. “I wonder if I should go

with you. Perhaps if I offer my magic healing for barter, we could obtain

more supplies. We’ll need lots of food before we face Salth, and it

sounds like we won’t be able to find anything when we get close to her

home. Besides, what if these people have been affected by Salth’s

magic but don’t know it yet?” She pushed herself off of the hammock.

“It’s my duty to make sure they’re healthy before letting them get too

close to Vistichia.”

A few moments ago, Kron would have welcomed her assistance

with the Mount Clan. Now, he wondered if it would be safer for her to

remain behind. But how could he convince her of that?

He checked his pouch for defensive objects. Yarn would work, even

though it was short. “Galia, Salth’s curse isn’t subtle. If she was drain-

ing these people of their remaining time, they’d already be dead.”

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Her forehead furrowed. “I suppose the Four wouldn’t permit Salth’s

curse to extend too close to Vistichia. But these people could still carry

a plague. I’d best check.”

Kron bit back a sigh. If she wouldn’t stay behind, they should bring

another Avatar with them to help defend themselves. Should it be Janno

or Caye? He refused to consider Bella. Maybe he wanted to protect her

too much, but unless there were more wild animals about than was nor-

mal in winter, Bella wouldn’t be able to do much else than make the

draft horses run off. Janno could damage any wooden weapons or the

wagons, while Caye’s magic was the most flexible. But when Kron ap-

proached her seat and found her slumped over, sleeping, he decided it

was more important to let her rest. He beckoned Janno over and ex-

plained the situation to him in a whisper so Galia wouldn’t overhear

them. Janno stared at his mother with so much worry in his expression

Kron feared Galia would suspect something.

“Here. Take this.” Kron piled magic-finders and a few semiprecious

gems into a basket, then handed it to Janno. “Don’t tell the strangers

that you’re an Avatar, not until we know what their intentions are.”

Janno scowled. “So, I’m just there to be a porter?”

“Well, you can show off your strength and flirt with the women too.

Maybe you’ll learn something useful from them.”

Janno’s expression lightened at the idea.

Kron descended first from the
Avatar
so he could hold the rope lad-

der steady for Galia and then catch the basket that Janno lowered. Janno

brought down a second basket full of fish by strapping the basket to his

back. Lammar strode forward to welcome them. “What have you

brought to trade? Fish?” He laughed. “That’s the last thing we need so

close to a river!”

“Ah, but these are saltwater fish, not from the river,” Galia told him.

“We brought these from Vistichia, but they’re smoked so well they’ll

last for moons. Go on, try a sample.”

While she distracted Lammar, Kron tucked a magic-finder into his