Fires of magic book 3 in.., p.15
Fires of Magic: Book 3 in the Chronomancer Series, page 15
The morning would come all too quickly.
That night, he didn’t dream.
Thirty-Five
Funeral Pyre
“What have you done?”
“Lin, I had to.”
“You left your mother alone. She needed you, Mel.”
“I was thinking about—”
“Yourself.”
“No, not myself. Everyone else but me.”
“You went to the trolmandr.” Lin regretting making this an accusation rather than a question.
Mel surrendered and became quiet.
“Why, Mel? I already talked to them and arranged for the weather.”
“You make it sound like some sort of bargain to control the snow. You don’t deliver justice to this valley.” His jawline was set, and he was trying to control his breathing through his nose.
“I’m trying to avoid more death.”
“Lin, you can’t keep doing this alone.”
“Your father will lie on a funeral pyre tomorrow, if we can find enough dry wood. He'd be alive if I hadn’t come here with you.”
“Why are you carrying this burden alone?” Mel’s face turned red. “I brought you here. I brought you into my home. I brought you to the trolmandr. I brought this to my village and my home. And you are going to sit in pity? You will make me face my father’s death alone?” His voice dropped to a whisper. “You have no right.”
Lin's breath left her chest. She imagined the blade she must have plunged through Mel’s ribs. She forged this blade from her fear, her doubts, and her loss, and she shoved it into the one person who tried to help and once cared. A man who was struggling with the loss of his father. And she hurt him to save her feelings.
“I’m sorry, Mel. I didn’t—”
“I know, Lin. None of us wanted this to happen. No one starts their day hoping that fate will crush them.”
“But—”
“I should see my mother.”
What have I done?
Lin stood alone in the disappearing snow and drying ground, and she was a few feet from the dissolving message. She couldn’t find anyone until she found herself.
The village gathered to collect wood for two pyres. Grondahl's people carried the weight of their task in their posture and on their faces. Spring's warmth grappled with the emotional darkness, but even in the promise of spring, there would be loss. Lin wondered if the fires would drive back the melancholy and bring life back to the village.
Walking to the edge of the woods, Lin noticed the frigid air brush the hairs on her forearms. The sun's warmth faded to the cold and winter outside the ring surrounding Grondahl, and the touch of winter next to spring's resurgence unnerved Lin. Villagers brought livestock and wagons to make quick work of gathering fuel. Draft horses became skittish as they approached the line of melting snow.
Everyone worked quickly and quietly through the grim task of collecting wood. No one used tools to cut down trees or thick limbs. They worked with their hands in the underbrush. The trolmandr and the reverence for nature held sway over the village.
Not long after midday, carts loaded with dry wood returned to the warmth. The families grieving for the lost had enough fuel for fires, and the villagers set about their task of stacking wood for bodies. The solemn work proceeded quietly until piles of wood reached Lin’s shoulder height. As the villagers stepped away from their labor, Lin turned around to see a procession carrying two wrapped bodies. The fires were ready.
Spring sunlight caressed the people in their somber mood, and warmth tried to remind them of new life emerging from the barren winter landscape.
The trolmandr could put on quite a show. Or was it a display of their power?
With help from the people of Grondahl, the families laid the bodies to rest on the pyre. Families formed lines to walk past the fallen members of the village. Lin understood the fires would be lit in the night's darkness, a beacon to guide their spirits home. She walked past each one and turned back toward Mel’s home.
“These are yours.”
Lin turned toward the voice. Anger flared in her body, and she almost reached for the magic. One of the council members, Larine, stared her down.
“I hope we can give these spirits rest after what you’ve done,” Holgar said.
“They will find rest. The trolmandr opened up the skies and allowed us to honor these fallen,” Lin said.
“To farewell our dead.” Lin hadn’t met this woman before. The woman's hands clenched into balls, and her face was tight in rage and grief.
“Eva, the widow,” Holgar said.
“I’m sorry for your—”
“Loss that you created? He went to save you, and he came home like this.” Lin couldn’t imagine the depth of her grief. That grief was focused rage, and the widow had the right person to blame. Several other members of the assembled people drifted closer to the confrontation.
“Eva, please.”
“Don’t you come to her aid, Melburne. You should be just as mad. Your father is lying right here.”
“I’m not mad, Eva.” Mel raised his voice. “I lost my father. But he wanted to take Lin in. When she lost everything, I had to help.”
“That loss came to us.” Lin didn’t recognize the voice or identify the speaker. “Now, we all share the loss.”
Mel nodded. “I took her to the trolmandr, and we stayed.”
Like that was a good argument.
Wait, Lin couldn’t believe how the mood shifted with those words. What did the trolmandr do to these people?
The crowd moved away from the focus on Lin and made its way to the funeral pyres. The widows stood in front of the group, and their children stood close to their parents. Lin didn't hear the few words spoken in respect, but the fire from the torches sprung to life.
In a moment, flames roared to life around the base of the two pyres. Lin helped gather this wood, and it wasn’t dry enough to burn like this. The people of the village shared her surprise and stepped away from the devouring flames. As the blaze caught up to the resting bodies, the people turned away and walked home. Only the families of the fallen stayed in place for their last farewell.
Lin felt a drop of cold hit her face. She looked up and saw it was snowing again.
Thirty-Six
The Storm Returns
Flames fought against the falling snow until the fuel of the pyres expired. Mel, Lin, and Bridgette stood for several hours until the wet snow quenched the dull red embers. Mel took his mother’s hand and guided her home. Lin stayed for a moment near the pyres to take one last look at the cost of her actions. Her decisions created this outcome, and the trolmandr were sending a message.
The display of power was impressive. Spring's return and the assault of winter on the same day were beyond Lin's imagination. The snow reminded the villagers of the patronage of the trolmandr. A hunting wizard would feel the protection of the valley.
Or was this show of power for Lin? She needed to keep her end of the bargain.
She made her way back to the house as the wind picked up the snow and flung it against the stone walls.
“Lin, the snow….”
“Will be worse, Mel. The wind is stronger this time, and the snow is falling hard.”
“Right after the funeral. This is trolmandr work.”
“I wish I knew if it's to keep people out or keep people in.”
“The people of the village—” Mel stopped when Lin cocked her head and gave him a half-smile. “Yeah, right. It’s not for the people; it’s for us. Keep us here.”
“I don’t know if they mean to bury the village in snow for you, Mel. But they expect me to honor my deal.”
“We're not talking about this again. My family already paid its price. We’ve shown our loyalty to the trolmandr, the people, and you.”
“But you can still pay more. I don’t want you to pay in full.”
“Are we talking about the trolmandr and the snow, or are we talking about you?”
Lin wanted to let her thoughts gush out, but Lin caught Bridgette moving in the kitchen. Instead of her normal purpose and efficient movement, her movements were random. Emotions consumed Bridgette's natural poise, and her body wasn’t connected to her mind. Lin shook her head and got up.
“Bridgette, let me help you.”
“Thank you, Lin. I can’t seem to focus on anything. Each time I reach for something, I’ve already forgotten what I was trying to do.”
“Let me make you something to eat and get you a hot drink. There’s enough wood and water here to get something started. Please sit with Mel for a few minutes.”
Lin needed a break from the discussion. She’d think better with her hands in motion and her body preoccupied with daily tasks.
Bridgette sat with lifeless hands in her lap, and she glanced toward the empty chair at the small table. Cold seeped through the walls and made the fire flicker. Bridgette shivered as she made the mechanical motions of eating and drinking. After cleaning up from the late dinner, the widow lay on a straw pallet too large for just her, and Lin laid a fur cloak to cover Bridgette's slight frame.
By morning, the snowfall was heavy. Lin pulled the door open for just a moment and closed it as the thick flakes caked her face. Mel was already standing behind her as she closed the door.
“What do we do today?” Mel asked.
“I live up to my promise, and we travel to see the trolmandr.”
“We?”
“If you need to stay here….”
“No, never. Just surprised that you used the word ‘we’ without my prompting.”
“I don’t think I could find the trolmandr in this snow.” Lin's small lie made her face red. Mel noticed. Fortunately, he didn’t make an issue out of her words.
“Do you think we should make the journey in this snow? I mean, did the trolmandr expect you to march up there now?”
“Mel, I don’t know. But I can’t let the snow keep falling like this. The village will starve next winter.”
“Will be fine, with or without us. This is about you.”
“I… don’t know what to say.”
“Then we should get your cloak and make our way up the valley. I don’t know how long it’ll take to make the trip like this.”
They packed lightly for the travel—warm clothes, hard food for the journey, and a large oilskin to make a shelter. Mel carefully packed fire-starting material. Preparation for the worst. Preparation for the duration. Lin trusted Mel’s outdoor skills, but she wondered what dry fuel they would find to start and keep a fire going. They’d have to plan to keep moving until they got to the trolmandr house.
Lin couldn’t talk to Mel as they traveled. The blowing snow tried to force its way into her lungs, and she needed every breath to keep up with Mel through the snow. She was thankful Mel pushed his way through the growing drifts and made a trail for her to follow.
The gray skies didn’t let her mind register the passage of time. Each step was a beat of time, and each gust threatened to push her backward. She glanced at the shadow of the man leading her up the valley. She could have found her way, but she wondered if it would take her over one day to make the trek by herself. Just keep moving in his trail.
Lin nearly ran into Mel’s back as he pulled up short. He glanced back at her and pointed into the blowing snow. The trolmandr house was close as daylight faded. The trek took longer than she expected, and she feared having to spend the night with the trolmandr.
Thirty-Seven
Altered Storm
“You made the journey.”
Lin wasn’t sure if she was supposed to answer that question or take Turbin’s statement as a fact. Lin and Mel stood in the trolmandr's doorway with rivers of melting snow pooling on the floor. She chose not to make a witty answer.
“The village can’t take all of this snow, trolmandr,” Mel said as he hung his cloak on a peg and stored his pack off the floor.
“The danger grows, Melburne,” Almeta said.
“After we let the snow up for the funeral pyres, we must ensure the village and the valley are safe.”
“But for how long, trolmandr? The winter supplies for the families are low, and the crops are in danger.”
“Lin, please come sit down.” Turbin kept an edge of command in his tone, but Lin picked up the air of concern.
Lin and Mel felt the roaring fire go straight to their skin as they approached the seats they knew well. The warmth took the edge off their attitude, and Lin hoped the fire would keep the trolmandr polite.
As they sat in the chairs, Almeta asked, “Something to eat? The journey must have been hard. We didn’t think you would attempt it through the snow.”
“Will it stop snowing?” Lin asked.
Mel shot her a look to be polite, and he added, “Yes, we would appreciate food. Especially if we will have to work our way back down the valley tonight.”
“That would be foolish,” Turbin said.
Almeta snorted as she got up and gathered four bowls. She got to work finishing up the stew with bits of meat and vegetables.
Where did the trolmandr get meat and vegetables after the snow they inflicted on the valley?
“Lin, the wizard who hunts you….” Almeta chose her next words. “We can feel him.”
“We could not do this until we worked with you.”
“You mean, blocked my magic.”
“You may find that our goals are not as far apart as you think,” Almeta said.
“Yes, but what will you do to me to reach your goals?”
“Learn,” Turbin said.
“Lin, we can help each other as we figure out how to turn this wizard away. Then we can focus on helping you,” Almeta added.
Lin liked the softer tone from the trolmandr, and she hoped it wasn’t out of desperation from the threat. But if they could help, she’d have to take it.
“I already agreed to help. What do we need to do?”
“Start with dinner and gain our strength,” Turbin added.
The clunk of wooden spoons against wooden bowls was the only sound as the four ate dinner. Lin imagined the plans the trolmandr concocted as they polished off a warm meal. The way they finished their sentences, they might talk in their minds to each other. Not that Lin could block them.
A low rumble interrupted her thoughts. The trolmandr jumped to their feet, and the bowls hit the floor and splattered the remains of their dinner.
Mel was only a moment behind them. “Avalanche?”
The rumbling died away.
“No,” Turbin said.
The rumbling began again.
“We’ve never had thundersnow. I’ve only heard—” Mel looked at the roof like he could see through the timbers.
“No,” Almeta said. The trolmandr grabbed hands as they closed their eyes.
Lin dropped her head for a moment. She knew she was out of time. Magic was there and waiting for her, and she pulled the surge into her welcoming mind, heart, and soul.
Her senses exploded, and she pushed backward in her seat. Magic flooded the air, the clouds, and the snow. She sensed the trolmandr magic trying to work as they pleaded with nature.
Lin walked in front of the trolmandr and saw them wince with each rumble of thunder. Sweat covered their crinkled brows. She put her hands on their shoulders to connect with them. The flow of magic melded for a few moments. Lin accepted the untapped power the trolmandr beckoned, and she loved the responsive surge of the arcane flow she controlled.
She tried to add clarity to the trolmandr vision to understand the powers they challenged.
And then the lightning started.
Unlike the bolts that meandered in the sky, these bolts were pillars of destruction aimed at the ground. Each blast made the ground groan, and even the trees whimpered with the explosive energy. The trolmandr tried to weave a shield of power over the village, but the bolts destroyed every effort.
Unknown to any but the trolmandr, wizard, and witch, the skies' arcane struggle over the village was reminiscent of the gods and giants. Nature and arcane power fought for dominance over the earth. Thunder answered each bolt, and nature struggled against the perversion of the storm.
Lin fed more of her magic to the trolmandr. Her arcane power longed to do more. Lin wanted to fight back. Mel placed his hands on her shoulders, and the touch stabilized her feelings and sharpened her focus.
“We can’t win this way,” Turbin said. His voice was low and strained. He pulled in ragged breaths as he fought the magic.
“Take away the source of his attack,” Almeta said. She struggled under the arcane assault from the sky.
“We don’t have time to do that.”
“We have nothing left to try.”
Thunder rumbled longer and closer together.
“Melburne, take Lin and run,” Almeta said.
“No, I can help. We can save—”
“You can’t. Please,” Turbin said.
Lin broke contact with the trolmandr and sprinted toward their belongings. Without securing their gear, the pair raced into the failing storm. The snow stopped, and the temperature was already warmer. The smell of ozone was everywhere, and the thunder and lightning dueled in the sky above them.
Lin and Mel ran away from the village and into the valley's wooded hills without looking back.
Thirty-Eight
Lost in the Woods
Her lungs burned as Lin dodged branches clutching at her clothes and slowing her escape. Her legs got heavier with each step, and she couldn't hold on to the magic in her soul. The power needed release, and her body felt the burn consuming her life.
She was afraid to let go of the arcane power. The battle of thunder and lightning over the valley faded, and she couldn’t sense if the trolmandr protected the valley from the assault. Lin tried to sort through the residual magic in the air to find a new threat. If she needed to fight, she had no choice but to be the witch and use all of her power.
