Magefall Page 3

  Tammy opened her eyes and saw Balfruss sitting across the desk.

  CHAPTER 3

  As the riders came into view Wren sighed with relief and a huge weight seemed to ease from her shoulders. She didn’t realise how anxious she’d been until now.

  “You’ve been hunching your shoulders all day,” said Danoph, coming to stand beside her. Since leaving the Red Tower a few weeks ago he remained quite taciturn with others, but was starting to open up more to her and Tianne. The three of them were closer than ever, for which Wren was extremely grateful, as she relied on their support for so many things.

  “I’m just glad they’re all safe.”

  “And there’s a new face with them,” he said, gesturing at the tall girl from Shael.

  Tianne was one among the group of five riders who slowly made their way towards their settlement from the mouth of the valley. Wren had a long list of jobs awaiting her attention, but greeting all newcomers and giving them the tour was also part of her role. It was a task that Wren cherished as it gave her an excuse to show how much they had accomplished since leaving the school. However, it also served as a reminder that there was still a lot of work ahead. But with each new arrival the challenge was made just a little easier.

  “I’ll see you at dinner,” said Danoph, moving away towards the woods clutching his basket. He liked to spend a portion of each day combing the woodland for mushrooms and cultivating the herbs he’d planted. Wren watched him for a little while, biting her lip, trying to push away the guilt. She was out of excuses. She would have to talk to him soon about his nightmares and explain what they really meant. The Grey Council had kept the truth from him for over a year. After only a few weeks of carrying around the same secret, it felt as if there was a lead weight strapped to her back. Now she understood one of her grandfather’s most popular sayings “the only thing heavier than keeping a secret was guilt.”

  Her attention was drawn back to the riders as they dismounted and approached on foot, Tianne at the front. Much to her friend’s surprise Wren embraced her, giving herself a moment to hide her relief.

  “Are you all right?” asked Tianne when Wren released her.

  “I’m just glad that you’re all safe,” she lied. She’d also avoided telling Tianne the whole truth. That would have to change as well. “What happened?”

  “It was just as you said. We found the village about three days to the south. Laila was hiding her abilities, but people were starting to get suspicious. She was relieved and happy to leave with us before the inevitable happened.”

  “You’ve done well,” said Wren, giving her friend a squeeze on the arm. “I’ll see you in a while.”

  Tianne gave her a puzzled look, no doubt trying to work out why she was being so affectionate, but didn’t ask. Wren thanked the other former students who led the horses away to the stables until she was standing face-to-face with Laila, the new arrival. She was older than Wren by at least a couple of years but her wide-eyed fear made her seem younger. This was probably the first time she’d ever been away from her village by herself.

  Tall, with golden skin and blonde hair, Wren knew of several boys who would find her attractive. She just hoped Laila’s experiences in her village had prepared her for how to deal amicably with their attention.

  Their community was so new and everyone busy that so far there hadn’t been any need to introduce forms of punishment. But if their numbers continued to grow it would become necessary. It was a problem for another day which she pushed to the back of her mind.

  “I’m Wren,” she said, remembering to hold out her hand towards Laila. It still felt like an odd form of greeting because of her Drassi heritage, but she was doing her best to adopt it. The familiarity of the ritual seemed to make strangers feel comfortable and connected to one another. Every day she was reminded that there was much she could learn from other people, even when they weren’t intentionally teaching her.

  “Tianne said you’re in charge,” replied Laila, shaking her hand. There was no surprise at her age or hint of scepticism in her voice which Wren took as a good sign. But as she’d found out in the last year at the Red Tower, first impressions could be deceiving.

  “In a way. Let me show you around,” said Wren. From their vantage point they had a good view of the entire valley. On the left-hand side was an old forest that had been left untouched by anyone for centuries. It was thick and wild, overgrown in places with trees fighting for space. Beneath the dense canopy they’d found more than a dozen rotting trunks overgrown with moss and swarming with ivy. In the heat and darkness the damp forest floor had become a haven for mushrooms. They’d started thinning out the forest a little, clearing away the dead wood and cutting down some of the largest trees for raw materials.

  Opening up sections of the ground to sunlight for the first time in years was encouraging new growth. The wild flowers and plants brought in a host of insects and with them came birds in search of a feast, filling the trees with their song. Other animals were starting to return as well and only last week someone had spotted a rabbit. And where there was one rabbit there was often ten. With so many mouths to feed she expected they would soon be setting traps in the forest.

  On the right of the valley was what had been dry and dusty scrubland covered with scattered lumps of rock from the surrounding cliffs. It too had been transformed in the last few weeks.

  “When we arrived in the valley there was nothing here. It was completely abandoned,” said Wren. “No one had lived here for a long time. There are some ancient caves at the back and an old well, but it was bone dry.”

  “Where did the water come from?” asked Laila, gesturing at the two wells in the valley where people were drawing up water.

  “We dug new ones,” said Wren, allowing a spark of energy to dance between her fingers. “One of our community has a Talent for finding things. She’s a natural dowser, so we dug down and tapped into an underground source. It comes down from the mountains into an underground lake.”

  Digging the wells was the first thing they’d done as a group when they’d accidentally stumbled across the valley. It was remote, difficult to find and no one would normally come to the area as there was no water. It was also the first time that all of them had worked together using their magic. At the Red Tower the students had sparred and worked alongside each other, but had never combined their strength towards a common goal. Being surrounded by so many people embracing the Source was still a special moment that Wren cherished. It connected her to those around her in a way that went beyond imitating customs and rituals.

  This far west in Shael the law was not readily enforced as it was in the capital and other districts. The war had decimated the country’s population and Queen Olivia didn’t have the bodies to protect the entire nation. Whole areas had been abandoned, with every town and village becoming a home only for ghosts, as the population fled to more central areas for protection. In their wake bandits moved in and the number of attacks on travellers in the western region of Shael increased. Any merchant transporting goods into Shael was now protected by a large number of guards or Drassi warriors.

  The fringes of the country were the worst and out here in the Rooke district, so close to the western border, they were completely alone. There were no communities for almost a day’s ride in every direction, but plenty of abandoned villages that were often frequented by bandits who used them as temporary bases.

  “After the wells we dug the fields,” said Wren, gesturing at the right side of the valley. Several acres of freshly turned soil were under the keen gaze of two farmers who used to work on the staff at the Red Tower. “Not everyone who lives here has magic, but we all work together. The farmers direct us and we use our magic to help them.” A light shower of rain was falling over one of the fields as two students worked together to cool the air directly above it. The work was delicate and tiring but vitally important to their survival. Every mage in their community was growing accustomed to using their m
agic every day to help with a variety of tasks.

  “And the houses?”

  Wren gestured for Laila to follow her towards the centre of the village where four large log cabins and several other structures had been built. “Those came next.”

  Each house was nothing more than a large single room with no windows and one door. The walls of each building were fashioned from logs that had been lashed together and the roof made from clay tiles that made the interior waterproof. At the back of each cabin was a chimney that they fed with firewood to keep the chill at bay during the night. They were crude but provided shelter and were better than sleeping in the caves, which they’d had to endure when they’d first arrived.

  They were currently building real homes and were carefully planning the layout of the village, but the work was slow and it took a lot of patience and skill. Despite using her magic in many ways she would never have anticipated, Wren was slowly learning that magic could only do so much. Stone for the foundations was being scavenged from abandoned villages and carried here, while wooden planks and beams were being fashioned for the roofs in the workshop. She was desperate for a glassblower, but so far they’d not found anyone with the skill. The few windows they’d taken from other buildings were not perfect, but they would have to do for the time being.

  “Every day we use our magic in all sorts of practical ways,” said Wren, gesturing towards where three students were slowly lowering a block of stone into place for the foundation of another house. “The more you get used to using it, the easier it becomes.”

  “I can’t control it and I’m not very strong,” apologised Laila.

  “You’ll get there and we all have different strengths,” said Wren, leading her towards a rhythmic clanging sound coming from a rare stone building with a sloping wooden roof. The forge had several large shuttered windows without glass and a broad door, all of which were wide open to let out the heat. Inside the smith, Leonie, was fashioning tools and equipment. They had one plough but she was busy making another while several students took turns maintaining the heat. It was hard physical labour and currently one of several substitutes for weapons training with Master Choss. Survivors who’d stayed behind to defend the school had brought no news about him, forcing Wren to accept that the worst had happened. They still practised with wooden swords and their fists every day, but it wasn’t the same without him.

  “This place is very different from the Red Tower,” said Wren, still having mixed feelings about criticising the school and its methods. “Our goal is to teach you control and, after that, you’ll learn some of the basics. How to create light, fire and hopefully how to heal.”

  Laila was stunned. “You know how to heal people?”

  “It’s difficult,” admitted Wren, knowing that she still had a long way to go. She had daily lessons with Master Yettle, alongside every other student, but so far she had yet to master the basics. The Healer had not been with them during the evacuation, but one day he’d just appeared at the mouth of the valley as if summoned. “We believe in pairing everything with practical skills. So you’ll learn how to defend yourself with magic, but also how to fight with a sword or your fists. You’ll also learn herb-lore, from Morag, in partnership with healing from Master Yettle. Combining the two is more effective and it gives us all a greater understanding of the body. Thankfully we have some very patient teachers.”

  “I thought I’d be spending my days reading in a classroom.”

  “Sometimes that’s necessary, but we’re trying to adopt techniques from all over the world.” Wren knew that the First People also used magic every day for practical purposes, such as hunting and fishing. Part of her wished she’d gone with Eloise, if only to see how the Jhanidi used their abilities in the desert kingdoms. She suspected there was much she could have learned that would be beneficial to their community in the coming months.

  “Where do I start?” asked Laila. Wren took it as a good sign that she was keen to be doing something. There were a few students who had thought the new community would be run in the same way as the school. Where meals were prepared for them and many of their daily needs were dealt with by a staff of helpers. Their only real responsibility at the Red Tower had been to their studies. It had come as quite a rude awakening for some to realise they were now mostly responsible for looking after themselves. Help was given and guidance offered, but everyone had to contribute to the chores. It was proving a difficult adjustment for some, but no one here was about to do it for them. Many a soft hand was now developing calluses and getting soil under its fingernails for the first time.

  “Control. Once you’ve mastered that we’ll put you to work,” said Wren, offering Laila a smile. “After that it’s up to you. Some people here have a greater affinity for certain areas. Some are generalists and others have Talents, like our dowser. Our goal is to teach you how to protect yourself and be ready for any situation.”

  “Are we building an army?” asked Laila with a smile.

  Wren’s expression turned stony. “No.” That one word hung in the air between them and slowly Laila’s mirth drained away. Wren waited in silence until the seriousness of the situation became apparent to Laila. “I assume you know about Garvey and what he’s done?” she asked quietly.

  “I’ve heard the stories.”

  “He’s creating living weapons and he enjoys hurting people.” Wren wasn’t sure what to believe about the man who had once been her teacher, but stories of his atrocious crimes were commonplace and there were too many for them all to be fiction. “Magic is a powerful force and in the wrong hands it is dangerous and destructive. Here, we will teach you how to control your power, but also how to blend in with those without magic. What you do after that is up to you. Some people at the Red Tower learned control so that they could move abroad and start new lives without their magic. What we’re offering here is a little different, but if you choose that path no one will stop you. I want to be very honest with you, Laila. You’re not a prisoner here. You can leave any time you want, but the longer you stay the more we’ll teach you.”

  “I don’t really know what I want to do,” admitted Laila. “I’ve just been so scared that someone would find out. I’ve come so close to hurting people by accident. I don’t want to be afraid any more.”

  Wren’s frown eased and she gave Laila a moment to regain her composure, waiting until she’d wiped away her tears. It seemed that crying in public, no matter where you came from, was uncomfortable and awkward.

  “There’s still a lot to be done here,” said Wren, pretending that nothing had happened.

  “I’d like to help in any way I can.”

  “That’s good. How about we get you settled in and tomorrow you can start with your lessons?” suggested Wren. “Maybe once your magic is under control, then you can start to think about what you want to do with it.”

  They passed the stables and the workshop that were always busy with people. Every day a group of riders scoured the surrounding area and they always returned with something useful from one of the abandoned villages. The best day was when they’d returned with half a dozen goats and an angry hen that only laid when it suited her. Yesterday the scouting group had reported seeing a flock of sheep that had gone wild and were living in the hills not far away. Bringing them in was at the top of her list of tasks. The sheep would provide a good source of milk, wool and meat.

  The work ahead seemed endless, but it was a careful balancing act between gradually bringing in new people and growing too quickly. Their new community had gone unnoticed so far, but she realised that would eventually change. Her people had seen groups of bandits, but so far there had been no confrontations. When people inevitably found out about this community she wanted their new home to be secure. She hadn’t anticipated bringing in anyone new for a while, but the decision had been taken out of her hands.

  Wren got Laila settled in one of the dormitories and left her to get acquainted with some of the other students before goi
ng in search of Danoph. She found him in one of the storage sheds hanging batches of herbs from the rafters to dry out.

  “So, what’s your first impression of the new arrival?” he asked without turning around. He was busy bundling together another batch of willow bark which Morag, their resident herbalist, had told them was good for treating pain.

  “You ask me that every time,” she said.

  “Because you always have a different answer, and first impressions are important.”

  “I believe that less every day,” admitted Wren. She immediately regretted saying it as she didn’t want to make this about her. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about Laila, and the others.”

  “No one expects you to be perfect, or have all the answers,” he said, seeing through her as usual. Wren squirmed uncomfortably and tried to steer the conversation back towards him.

  “Let’s talk outside when you’re finished,” she said, suddenly finding the shed claustrophobic. By the time Danoph emerged she felt ready to talk about what she’d been avoiding since leaving the school.

  “Tianne should hear this as well.”

  They found her in the stables brushing down one of the horses but she followed them outside. Wren led them both to a quiet space away from everyone on the edge of the forest.

  “Tell me about your dreams,” Wren said to Danoph, before they could ask her anything.

  “They still haunt me,” said Danoph, staring into the distance. “Even now, when I’m awake, I can see some of the images.”

  “They’re not just dreams, are they?” asked Wren, hoping he had intuited something from them.

  Danoph’s eyes were still unfocused. “No, they’re something else. It’s hard to describe but I have this feeling.” He clutched his shirt, idly tugging at the material. “It’s like I’m being pulled in several directions at once.”

  “What’s all this about?” asked Tianne.

  “Just before we left the Red Tower, Garvey told me something.”