Ithanalin’s Restoration

Chapter Thirty

Kilisha did not hesitate for an instant; she dashed forward and dove through the crenelation after the couch. As she dove she screamed, “Drink it now!”

Behind her she heard several shouts and screams, but she ignored them.

She jammed her own vial of potion between her teeth as she pushed off from the parapet, before she really even began falling; then she reached up to brush the hair from her eyes.

She was falling through empty air, the rocks and breaking waves rushing up at her at hideous speed, and there was the couch, and the overlord, falling just ahead of her, and the overlord was drinking the potion. She grabbed for the couch, felt her hand close on it; she tipped her head back and swallowed.

And she was suddenly weightless. She stopped falling so suddenly that her head snapped back, dazing her, and her gorge rose. The couch jerked at her arm, and she felt as if her shoulder was coming apart. For an instant everything vanished in a burst of pain; then she opened her eyes.

She was hanging in midair a few feet out from the wall of the Fortress, several stories below the parapet but a few feet above where the gray stone wall rested on the cliff. The couch was hanging from her right hand, which was closed tight around one of its legs. The overlord was still on the couch, still pinned under one arm-but his upper body was floating at an odd angle.

“You drank the potion, my lord?” she said.

The couch squirmed in her grasp as Wulran nodded. She tightened her grip, pleasantly aware of her own superhuman strength.

“Then get your foot loose,” she said. “You won’t fall.”

Wulran stared down at the rocks. “You’re sure of that?”

“I’m sure,” Kilisha said. “It’s Tracel’s Levitation, the same thing that’s keeping me from falling. You’ll stay at this height until you say the release word.”

Wulran glanced up at her, then back down at the sea. “Young woman, I trust you realize that if I die today, you’ll be in an absolutely amazing amount of trouble.”

Kilisha managed to laugh. “Oh, believe me, my lord, I’m very well aware of that!”

“All right, then.” He bent down.

The couch thrashed wildly.

Suddenly nervous, Kilisha called, “Do you have the rest of the potion?”

“Yes,” Wulran said warily, holding up the vial. “Why do you ask?”

Kilisha laughed again. “Well, I’m only an apprentice. I think you’ll levitate right where you are, but if I’m wrong, you’ll have a couple of seconds to drink the rest of that before you hit.”

“Oh, you are so comforting!” Wulran glanced up past her, then bent down again and pried at the wooden arm encircling his ankle.

The couch struggled, and Kilisha had to devote her entire attention to keeping her grip on it. She could hear wood creak as the overlord fought to free his foot.

“Hurry, please,” she said. “This strength spell only has a few more minutes left.”

“Now you tell me!”

Wood cracked suddenly, and the overlord’s leg jerked up-but his boot, still caught, pulled off and fell.

Both of them watched silently as the empty boot spiraled down and splashed into the surf-but now the overlord was hanging alone in midair, a few inches of space separating him from the couch. He looked around, taking in his situation, then reached out and pushed himself away from the couch so that it could not grab him again, extending that few inches to almost a yard.

And the couch seemed suddenly heavier in Kilisha’s grasp. She realized she really did only have a few minutes before the Spell of Optimum Strength wore off, and when that happened she wouldn’t be able to hold the couch. She would be safe, and the overlord as well, but the couch would fall, and probably be smashed on the rocks or swept out to sea.

After all this, she did not want to let Ithanalin down.

With her left hand she reached across and pawed at her belt pouch, and managed to find another vial. She turned it in her fingers and read the label.

V’S lev.

She lifted it to her mouth, pulled the cork with her teeth, then spat the cork out. It fell and vanished.

Varen’s Levitation took two forms, and she knew which one she wanted-but would the potion do that?

When the spell was cast directly it could be placed on either the wizard casting it, which would allow him or her to walk on air, or it could be cast on an object, which could then be placed at any height and would stay there. Could a potion cast a spell on an object? It ought to be possible, and she had certainly thought it was when she prepared the potion, but she realized now that she wasn’t sure how to determine which form the spell took from a potion. She couldn’t place the lantern on the chosen object when she had no lantern.

She hoped she could choose simply by willing it. If so, then she could suspend the couch here and come back for it at leisure.

If not, though...

She decided not to risk it after all. She would walk up, carrying the couch and hoping that the Spell of Optimum Strength lasted until she got it safely back in the Fortress.

And there was also the question of whether she could use Varen’s Levitation at all while Tracel’s Levitation was still in effect.

She wouldn’t try it. Spells could interact in dangerous ways. She would break Tracel’s Levitation, then use Varen’s.

“My lord,” she said, “I’m going to say a word, and then I’m going to fall, and then I hope I’ll catch myself and levitate myself and the couch back up away from here. I’m afraid that will leave you hanging here, drifting-but I’m sure someone will come for you soon.”

“Wait a minute,” Wulran began, but Kilisha ignored him. She had no time to spare.

She tilted the vial, and as the first drop of potion touched her lips she spoke the single word that negated Tracel’s Levitation.

She and the couch dropped instantly, plummeting past the overlord as she quickly gulped the potion.

They were falling down the cliff, the rocks zooming toward them, the pounding of the surf increasing from a quiet whooshing to a roar, and then she took a step and caught herself on air.

As before, the couch’s weight jerked hard at her shoulder as she came to a stop, but again she held on.

She blinked and unsteadily took another step upward, then began climbing an invisible staircase of air, as she had a few days before, gaining confidence with every step. This time, instead of an axe with a rope dangling from it, she held a struggling couch.

As she climbed she looked around, and saw that she had stopped no more than ten feet from the first jagged black edge of broken stone. For the first time she let herself realize that she had deliberately dived off a hundred-foot cliff toward the rocks, magically caught herself in midair, and then more or less done it again. Well, magic was dangerous, and she was a wizard. She swallowed, and trudged on, walking upward. She turned her steps, making her ascent a spiral, and looked up.

The overlord was still hanging where she had left him, watching her. Above them, the battlements were lined with faces and waving arms as soldiers and others leaned out to sec what had happened. A rope was being lowered-to the overlord, as was only fitting.

She walked on, dragging the squirming, thrashing couch.

“Oh, stop it,” she snapped, as it gave a particularly vigorous twist. “I’m taking you home, and you don’t have any choice in the matter.”

A moment later she reached the overlord’s level. He had noticed the rope, but for the moment he was ignoring it and watching her. “Are you all right?” he called.

“I’m fine,” she replied, not stopping. “As long as I get back to the top before any of the magic wears off, everything will be just fine.”

He glanced up at the distance she still had to go. “Are you sure you’ll make it?”

“I’ll just have to,” she said.

“There are other ropes coming,” he said, pointing.

There were, indeed, more ropes being lowered, she saw. “Well, they’ll be there if I need them,” she said. “But I’d rather do it myself” A thought struck her. “My lord?”

“Yes?”

“Once you’re securely tied on, and there’s no danger of falling, you’ll need to break the spell,” she said. “I don’t think you can go down or up while it’s on you.”

“Not even with the rope pulling me?”

“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “But just in case-don’t say this now, but the word to break the spell...”

She stopped in midsentence. It was only human nature to repeat a word you wanted to learn, even if you had been told not to.

He had not yet caught the rope, and she was already above him, too far away to catch him if he fell.

“I’ll tell you later,” she said. “If you need it.”

He frowned, then turned his attention to the rope.

She waved farewell with her free hand and kept climbing.

By the time she neared the top her right arm was almost numb, and she could feel herself weakening. As she rose above the parapet she called, “I need some help here!”

The ramparts and courtyard were swarming with soldiers and courtiers, and although most of them were focused on pulling the overlord up to safety, a dozen rushed to her aid.

“Bring ropes,” she said. “Tie the couch down! Don’t let it escape! It’s stronger than it looks.”

Strong, eager arms reached out as she kept climbing. She turned her steps eastward and strode up above the parapet, across the ramparts-and finally she stopped, with the couch dangling a few feet above the stones.

Soldiers grabbed it from every side; ropes were thrown hastily around it.

“Have you got it?” she called feebly. The Spell of Optimum Strength was gone; she was just a tired teenaged girl holding a heavy couch by one leg, trying desperately not to drop it. Her arm was trembling, her fingers red and straining.

“We have it,” a familiar voice said, and she looked down at Kelder’s broad face. She knew it was not a particularly handsome face by most people’s standards, but right now she thought it was beautiful.

“Good,” she said, releasing her hold.

Then she paused, and instead of setting her right foot above the left on her next step she carefully placed it below, beginning her descent.

Varen’s Levitation needed no magic words to dispel it; with or without the lantern, the instant her foot touched anything solid the spell would break. She walked wearily down the air until at last her sandal touched the stone pavement of the courtyard.

And then all her magic was done, at least for the moment, and she collapsed onto the pavement, exhausted.

She sat there for a long moment, eyes closed, trying to catch her breath; then she heard her name.

She opened her eyes to find Kelder and Opir on either side, watching her with concern on their faces; she smiled up at Kelder, so focused on his worried eyes that she hardly noticed her brother.

But it was Adagan who had called her. He was up on the battlements, helping to haul in the overlord. “Kilisha!” he called again. “Can you please break this spell?”

She looked up and saw several large men struggling to support the overlord as Tracel’s Levitation tried to drag him back down to the level at which it had been cast.

Kilisha took a deep breath, let it out slowly, then called back, “I’ll be right there!” Then she waved away assistance and got to her feet unaided. As soon as she was upright and reasonably confident of staying that way, she walked over to the rampart to teach Wulran III the word that would end Tracel’s Levitation.

It took him six tries before he could pronounce it properly- Wulran was obviously no wizard, or even much of a linguist. When at last he managed it the sudden cessation of pressure flung him upward from the courtyard pavement, but his guards caught him before he fell back to the stone.

Kilisha, still a trifle unsteady on her feet, watched it all with a broad smile on her face, and with guards standing respectfully at either side.