The source of magic, p.16
The Source of Magic, page 16
After a bit of bush-bashing, they found the trail and formed a line behind Constance.
“I told my papa about this trail once, and he said there weren’t any deer or any other big animals in the forest. He said it must have been rabbits or badgers making the trail, but I saw hoof prints once,” she said and continued to chatter away as the followed her along the trail.
When the canopy of leaves grew too thick for the larger bushes, the shallow groove wound around fallen trees taking them deeper into the forest. There were times when it would disappear for a stretch under the leaves and debris that had fallen across it but it was easy enough to pick up.
It was much cooler in the grey world of the forest where moss, lichen and fungi made their kingdom. Chloe and Selphie’s thin dresses did little to protect them against cold and they would rub their arms periodically to generate a little warmth before it leaked away. It was hard to tell if Melanie was tolerating the cool better or if it was her weird semi trance that was distracting her. Either way, her shoulders and upper arms, which were left uncovered by her blouse, were covered in goosebumps.
They eventually made it to a narrow strip of water a few feet wide that gently bubbled and meandered its way through the trees. John judged that the water would barely make it halfway up his shins.
“You have to jump over it. If you wade through it, won’t work,” said Constance, cryptically.
John didn’t question the seemingly ridiculous instructions. His mind had made a lot of adapting to a world with glowing rocks portals that transport you dozens of miles. He coped now by accepting what he was told at face value until someone said otherwise.
He took a few jogging steps and launched himself with enough speed to easily clear the stream. When he landed, the forest had changed.
The trees were the same and the stream still flowed, but there were things added to the scenery. There were rocks which glowed bright colours like the totems did, even though they were’t carved and only the elements had smoothed of their edges. The light they gave off leaked into all the shadows and lit the world up. The moss on the trees was greener, the red capped toadstools were redder and even the black-brown dirt had a purplish tinge to it. The animals were luminous too, with small furry burrowing things scurrying under tree roots now as noticeable as a light bulb.
In one way, John was glad to see that the Melanie, Chloe and Selphie were as awestruck as he was. For once he was not alone in his unfamiliarity with his surroundings. On the other hand, if they didn’t know where they were or what was going on, they might be in trouble.
“This must be where a ley line has come to the surface,” said Selphie with an air of academic conjecture.
“The place you summoned me didn’t look like this, neither did the room at the Academy under the dome," countered John.
“Those were convergences. It is where multiple ley lines cross over each other and the magical energy that flows through them seeps slowly to the surface. I think this is where one of those ley lines has actually come up and magic flows through this place,” Selphie explained.
“It has shaped and changed everything here. These river stones haven’t just been worn smooth by water,” said Melanie, picking up a large glowing oval stone from the mud. “The magic has shaped it, too.”
Melanie had the same trance-like look on her face as when she was touching The Giant’s Head.
Constance was poking at some moss with a stick, causing it to glow more brightly at the point of impact.
“I found this place once when everyone was playing hide and seek. I’m the only one who knows about it,” she said.
“Melanie, are any of these stones good for carving into totems?” John asked, looking off into the depths of the glowing forest.
“Any of them, all of them,” she said grabbing an even larger stone from under the water.
“Good. Grab as many as you need, and then let's get back to the real world," he said.
John didn’t like this place. If it was just weird he could deal with that. He once saw bioluminescent plankton in the wake of a frigate he was aboard. The crew had come to watch and take photos, but after a while it became mundane. If this place just glowed that would be one thing, but he had a feeling they were being watched.
He considered for a moment that he was being made paranoid. If magic flowed through this place at ground level and turned things a funny colour could it be having other effects on them.
Snap.
The sound of a twig breaking was unmistakable, though muffled by the carpet of leaves strewn across the forest floor. It rang out like a silver bell, a crisp sound amongst the soft bubbling of water and swishing of leaves. John looked towards the sound and saw nothing out of the ordinary, relative to the rest of their surrounds.
“Shhhh," he hushed the rest of the group.
They all stopped and looked at him to see what the matter was.
He held a hand up and kept it there while his eyes darted around trying to spot what had crushed the twig.
They waited in silence.
John watched a ladybug glowing like a Christmas tree light walk along a large tree root and then it disappeared.
There was a strange quiver in the air, similar to that of air over a road on a hot day. Then a strange approximation of the ladybug’s glow appeared on the log.
“There’s something else here," whispered John.
There was the faintest sound of a low growl and then the beast leapt.
Snarling and snapping jaws appeared out of nowhere and were grasping for John’s throat.
He leapt to his left, landing heavily on his side and looking up saw the creature as it tired to camouflage itself again a constantly changing backdrop.
The large snout and jaws were similar to a wolf but the rest of the body was that of a deer. Those parts of the deer that weren’t magically invisible were a light blue verging on grey with a white undercarriage. Its horns had a triangular, rather than round, appearance and seemed quite capable of slashing and not like an ornamental organ meant for mating rituals.
The deer rounded and drove at John where he lay on the ground. He rolled clear as giant grooves were cut into the earth and came hard up against a large red glowing rock the size of a basketball jutting out of the riverbed.
Constance had, by this time, jumped back over the stream and disappeared back to the normal world.
Melanie was crouched, her ginger fur puffed up, and tail whipping from side to side as she kept a steady eye on the deer.
Both Selphie and Chloe were frozen by the bank where they had been when the deer attacked, and it was to them that the deer now turned its attention. It slowly moved forward, recognising prey that was paralysed in fear snarling with its lips pulled back to reveal a row of canine fangs.
Upon coming to a stop against the rock, John rolled back and to his feet, water splashing as he entered the river. He reached down into the water and pulled up a stone the size of his fist.
“Hey, you’re not finished with me!” John yelled and threw the rock as hard as he could at the deer.
The rock bounced off its shoulder but the annoyance was enough to draw the deer back to John, whom it now stalked towards. John reached down and grabbed another stone, this one pulsating purple.
John remember something Chloe had said and, when the deer was near and just about to pounce for its killing strike, John thew the stone down onto the red rock.
The rock and stone both exploded in a hot pulse of magic energy. John had to shield his eyes from the blast with his forearms. The sisters screamed and held each other closer while Melanie leapt two meters to a nearby tree in fright.
The deer flailed madly with its forelegs. White and then pink foam gushed from its nose and after several violent shakes of its head it keeled over onto it side. From amongst a dozen small lacerations and cuts large shard of rock protruded from its chest where blood and more pink foam bubbled out from around the wound.
John stepped out of the stream and approached the deer carefully, looking for any sign that it might rear up or find a second wind at the sight of him.
The deer’s breathing was slow, shallow and laboured. Its large pupils, black and vacant, were rolling back into its skull when it finally it let out its last breath and death relaxed its muscles.
John was breathing heavily and he heard the blood pumping in his ears. Melanie came up to him, still crouched slightly as if she expected the deer to come to life and placed a hand lightly on his arm.
“Grab all the stones you can and jump back across the stream," he ordered.
He gave the deer a few experimental kicks with the toe of his boot checking for a reaction. After a short wait, when no further movement or life was displayed, he took a knee down by its belly. It was going to be a heavy lift but he was not about to look a gift horse – or in this case daemon deer – in the mouth.
Grabbing a foreleg in one hand and a hind-leg in the other, John gave a mighty heave and grunting, hefted the deer onto his shoulders. After two tight breaths through pursed lips he forced himself to his feet.
John was alone in the magical world now, the others having jumped back. He looked for the narrowest part of the stream and marched back to give himself as much of a run up as he could use. He then ran, each foot thumping down hard, churning up the soft ground as his thighs burned in protest to the weight. Right at the stream’s edge, his toe just touching the gently lapping water, he heaved himself up and forwards.
His efforts were rewarded when he landed in a forest dark, and devoid of glowing rocks and murderous deer. Melanie, Chloe and Selphie were all waiting together, sanding back from the river. When they saw John appear the rushed forwards and tried to help with the awkward weight as best they could.
“Stand back!” he called out.
He thew the deer backwards off his shoulders, and stumbled forwards in relief with the weight gone.
“Where’s Constance?” John asked in between gulps of air.
“She was gone when we jumped over. Probably ran all the way back to the village.” Chloe’s tone indicated that she was less than impressed.
“We’re taking this back to the village, look for some fallen tree branches while I take a moment," John said.
Together they found enough branches to jerry rig a crude travois by binding larger lengths together at a point with the flexible bark stripped from saplings. It allowed them to haul the deer carcass as a team, with rest breaks, and without John doing permanent damage to his spine.
It was mid afternoon by the time they got back to the village. They stopped outside the inn and laid their heavy cargo down.
John entered leaving the women to stand watch as a sizeable crowd of villagers gathered around.
“Malcolm, I have another trade for you. I’ll want the room and food for three more days,” John called out to the innkeeper who was sweeping around the tables.
“Have you found a whole wardrobe to trade?” Malcom asked dryly.
“Come look for yourself.”
John led Malcolm out to the deer. The crowd had grown even larger in the short interval.
“Three more days of room and food, what do you say?” John asked.
There was a long pause and the crowd collectively held their breath.
“We feast tonight!” yelled Malcolm, his normally gravely voice booming out across the village.
A huge cheer went up and everyone gathered around to hug Chloe, Selphie and Melanie, and shake John’s hand.
Eventually the villagers went back to their work. They had a little more spring in their step and talked between themselves of that night's dinner.
“I don’t know how you managed to hut this beast down. Everyone says that there is a curse on the forest that keeps the animals away. If you told me you were going hunting, I would have warned you off from wasting you time. But here you are with a fine catch, though I don’t think I’ve ever seen a deer with that colouring before," Malcolm said.
“There’s magic in the forest and I suspect it has something to do with the animals keeping their distance. When you’re gutting and skinning him, take a closer look at the head, you’ll find that the colouring isn’t the strangest thing about it,” said John.
“While you’re doing that, we have another project to get on with. Do you have a stonemason in the village by any chance?” John asked.
Malcom shook his head, still looking at the strange deer lying on the ground before him.
“A blacksmith then?” John continued.
“Sally took over from her husband when he left. She takes twice as long to do work half as good, but then again she’s had to pick it up from the few times she’s watched Chris when he was at it," Malcolm explained. "She’s on the other side of the village. Just follow the path past the town hall and keep going.”
The home of the blacksmith was the outermost amongst on that side of the village, a little separate from the rest for reasons of safety regarding the flames and sparks involved.
They found Sally at work pumping a bellows. She was just as slim as the rest of the village, though there was a sinewy strength to her. She was streaked with black soot and with her blond hair tucked inside her shirt, John mistook her for a boy at first, assuming Sally had a son.
“What can I do for you?” Sally asked in a husky but female voice.
“We need some tools for carving stone,” said Melanie. "I am making totems to help the village.”
“I have some chisels and hammers you can have for a silver coin,” Sally offered, not looking up from her work of turning a metal rod in the now bright yellow coals.
“We’ve just brought a fresh deer carcass into town, there will be a feast tonight. Is that something we can draw against?” said John.
Sally paused and rubbed the back of a gloved hand across her forehead wiping away sweat and leaving a black smear.
“So that's what the cheering was for. Congratulations, you’ve fed them for a night, tomorrow they go back to starving to death. Do something about that and you’ve got a deal,” Sally said.
“I’ve got just the thing in mind,” said John hoping his idea would work.
As they walked away from Sally’s forge, John explained what he was thinking: “You said changing one thing into another was difficult. What about speeding things up? Like with a field scattered with seeds – could you speed up their growth?”
Melanie thought about it.
“I think I could get that to work,” she said.
That night it seemed as if the whole village had turned up. Each person brought what they could but the thought of the venison for dinner had been the only point of conversation for the afternoon. A stew was being made with real meat and the two hind-legs were on a spit over coals There was a group of children taking turns rotating the large handle that made the meat spin.
Among the jovial villagers the one constant was Malcolm who remained gruff, and often monosyllabic as he greeted people arriving at the inn. There was something about him that John like, he was solid, dependable.
John stayed leaning against the bar enjoying long stretches of silence with Malcolm as they both looked out over the tables filled with villages. John was reminded of the cartoon sheep dog on Saturday morning cartoons looking out protectively at a flock of sheep.
He spotted Melanie and Selphie sitting together. Selphie picked a small bit of stone out of Melanie’s hair and they laughed about some private joke.
They had been working on the totem the rest of the afternoon until night fell. Melanie had elected a stone from among the collection they ha made at the stream and etched out the patterns and grooves to be cut explaining the purpose of each one while Selphie paid solemn attention. They had then taken turns with a small chisel and hammer working away at the outline.
Chloe was sitting by herself over near a window staring out into the darkness. She seemed to have the look of someone who didn’t want to talk and at the same time wanted someone to ignore that wish and talk to her.
With dinner served and a bowl of stew gushing steam up in front of each them John broached a topic that had been on his mind since finding out about Malcolm’s past.
“Can I ask you something? When you said the army ran – where did they go?”
“Don’t know.” Malcolm grew a little darker, and his brow creased a little more.
“Who does? Are there soldiers passing through the town, using the crossroads?” John pushed.
“There are soldiers. They stop in and take what they want, food mostly, if there is any, then move on. But not the soldiers you want.”
It was a cryptic reply that made John stop and think.
“The savages?” John asked.
“The savages.” Malcolm answered.
It was all Malcolm would say on that or any other topic. He left his bowl, the stew uneaten, and went and busied himself in the kitchen. John understood he’d hit a nerve. Malcolm’s would want to be proud of his time in the army. Even when you hate it, and it left you crippled, it’s still something that defines you. Then enemy soldiers, people you used to fight against, waltz into town and leave everyone starving, all because your army left the people to fend for themselves.
Malcolm didn’t know that the army was lying low to defend the source of the savages’ magic. John didn’t know if it would make a difference to Malcolm if he did know, so he kept it to himself.
John picked up the two untouched bowls and made his way over to Chloe.
“Penny for your thoughts,” John said, announcing himself.
“What’s a penny?” Chloe asked, looking up at John.
“A small coin. It’s just a way of asking what you are thinking about,” said John as he sat down and handed her a bowl.
“Have you ever been angry and scared at the same time? I hate the Academy, I want it gone. But at the same time there’s part of me that’s afraid of not having it around.”
John nodded to encourage her to talk. He knew this was one of those times to keep quiet and listen. Jumping in trying to offer solutions would just make her clam up.
