Taking Flight

Chapter Twenty-Four

The rain trailed off to nothing a little after midnight, and half an hour later Irith finally stopped complaining and telling the others that they should have gone back to Castle Angarossa.

When they arose and Kelder saw Asha shivering in her sopping blanket he felt mildly guilty about his insistence on continuing westward, but he set his mouth grimly and said nothing.

Damp and miserable, they set a slow pace at first, but the clouds burned off quickly, their clothing dried, and they gradually picked up speed, reaching Yondra Keep shortly after midday. As they ate a late lunch in a little cafe in the village, Asha asked, “How far is the next town?”

“Only a league,” Irith said, before Kelder could remember.

Asha nodded. “What about the one after that?”

Irith had to stop and think about that. “From the town of Amramion to Hlimora Castle must be, oh... three leagues? Four?”

“Amramion?” Asha asked. “Are we near Amramion?”

“Of course,” Irith said, startled. “I think it’s less than two miles to the border.”

“Maybe I should go home,” the little girl said uncertainly, peering down the highway.

“What about your father?” Kelder asked quietly.

Asha looked down at the table, and began to pick carefully at a protruding splinter. She gave no answer, and the subject was dropped.

They ate in silence for a moment, and then Asha said, “At least it’s all over for Abden. He’s out of it all.”

No one said anything in response to that.

“I think we’ll stop at Amramion for the night,” Kelder said, breaking the silence.

That was what they did.

They were questioned briefly by the guards at the border post, but they knew Irith, and could see no harm in an old man and a child. Kelder they had reservations about, but eventually they took Irith’s word that he was harmless and let him pass.

The party reached the village of Amramion a little past midafternoon, where they stopped at the Weary Wanderer and took a room; Irith admitted after they left the building that her funds were now running low, and they would need to find some way to obtain more, or else would need to start relying on charity or theft.

With that in mind, the party split up; Kelder went to look for work in the village, while the other three climbed the little hill to the castle and knocked at the postern gate, seeking a consultation with the king’s wizard, Pirra the Mage. Irith was recognized immediately, and the three of them ushered in.

Kelder heard about it that night at supper, as he massaged sore muscles and wondered why the only work he seemed to get was chopping wood. It wasn’t work he enjoyed at all.

Of course, he knew that was why he was able to get it — nobody else liked it either. And it was simple — anyone with strong arms could do it, and you didn’t need to worry about coaxing hostile animals or tying knots wrong or anything like that. It was something you could trust to a stranger who might be clumsy or half-witted.

Of course, since it meant giving him an axe, you didn’t want to ask a stranger who looked dangerous to chop your wood.

Thinking that through, he only half listened to the tale of how everybody at the castle had recognized Irith, and how Pirra had been eager to talk to her, and then had been really disappointed when she discovered that Irith didn’t remember how to prepare all the spells she used.

“...and she’d heard of Fendel’s Whatever-it-is Love Spell,” Asha said, “and she was pretty sure there’s a simple countercharm, but she doesn’t know what it is. She knows a different one of Fendel the Great’s love spells, Fendel’s Aphrodisiac Philtre, and she knows one that’s a lot like Irith’s, but it’s Cauthen’s Remarkable Love Spell, and it’s different, it uses mare’s sweat and stallion hairs, and she says that there are two countercharms for that that she knows, but she doesn’t know any for Irith’s spell.”

That caught Kelder’s attention.

“Did she say what the two countercharms are?” he asked. “Maybe we could try them — if the spells are alike, they might work.”

“I don’t think so,” Irith said.

“Well, would it do any harm to try?” Kelder persisted. “Did she say what the charms are?”

Irith and Asha exchanged glances; Irith let out a sigh.

“Yes, she said,” the shapeshifter admitted, “but Kelder, I don’t think we want to try them. Not until we know they’re the right ones.”

“Why not?”

“Well, because they’re difficult,” Irith said.

“What are they?”

“The easy one,” Irith said, “is for the victim to drink a cup of virgin’s blood each night at midnight, for four nights. A full cup. Without spilling a drop, or choking, or throwing up. And he has to go to sleep immediately afterward; if he speaks a word or sets foot on the ground, it won’t work.” She grimaced. “Have you ever drunk blood? The hardest part has to be not throwing up. And all the blood has to come from a single fertile virgin human female who has never been enchanted — no mixing blood from different people, or anything.”

Kelder looked at Asha, who shook her head and said, “I’m too young.”

“No,” Kelder said hurriedly, “I know that, I didn’t... I just... I mean, is that really what Pirra said? I know Irith has trouble remembering magic...” He trailed off, flustered.

“It’s right,” Asha said. “And that’s the easy one.”

“What’s the other?” Kelder asked, though he didn’t really expect it to be any better.

“It’s just one drop of blood on the back of the tongue,” Irith said. “Dragon’s blood.”

“Well, what’s so difficult about that?” Kelder asked, puzzled. “I thought wizards used dragon’s blood all the time.”

“They do,” Irith agreed, “but there’s another requirement. The blood has to come from a gelded dragon.”

Kelder thought about that.

“Oh,” he said. He sighed. “Maybe we could find someone...” he said.

“Kelder,” Irith said, “that’s a quart of virgin’s blood — if she’s as small as I am or smaller, I think that taking that much could kill her, and we don’t even know if it would work. It probably wouldn’t; it really is a different spell, and I already told you that magic doesn’t make sense. You can’t use phosphorus for brimstone and still work Thrindle’s Combustion, and I don’t think you can break Fendel’s Infatuous Love Spell with virgin’s blood.”

“Well, maybe if you got a young enough dragon...”

The others just stared at him.

“You’re right,” Kelder admitted. “It’s not the same spell. So it’s on to Ethshar, then.”

“On to Ethshar,” Irith agreed.

And that, Kelder thought as he took a bite of pear, wasn’t really anything all that terrible. It would be exciting to see Ethshar — the largest city in the World! Another city, and another prophetic phrase satisfied.

But it would have been nice, he thought as he watched Ezdral down a large mug of wine, if they’d been able to break the love spell that much sooner.

The meal continued in silence, for the most part. Asha seemed to be thinking about something; Ezdral was drinking heavily and alternately staring at Irith and forcing himself not to look at her. Irith grew increasingly uneasy under his gaze, quickly becoming too nervous to talk — not that she had anyone to speak to anyway, as Kelder was too tired.

When they had all eaten their fill, and a drudge had cleared away the plates — but left the wine bottle, which Ezdral guarded — Asha leaned over and asked Irith quietly, “Could you do something for me?”

Relieved to be able to talk to someone who wasn’t Ezdral, Irith asked, “What is it?”

“Could you fly home... I mean, to my father’s house, and tell him about Abden? And that I’m all right?”

Irith’s relief vanished; she bit her lower lip and looked at Kelder worriedly.

“Go ahead,” Kelder told her. “He won’t hurt you; he doesn’t even have to see you.”

“I’m really sort of tired...” the Flyer began.

“Oh, do it!” Kelder snapped. “I’ve been out chopping wood to earn a lousy copper, which your old boyfriend there just drank up — I think you should earn your keep!”

“Don’t you speak to me like that!”

Kelder started to say something else, but then a shadow fell over him. He turned to see Ezdral standing over him, fists clenched, the neck of the wine bottle in one of them.

“You don’t talk to Irith like that,” he said hoarsely.

For a moment the four of them were frozen into position, Kelder and Irith sitting on one bench, Asha on the other, the three of them gaping at Ezdral standing at the end of the table brandishing the bottle.

“No, it’s all right,” Irith said, breaking the impasse. “He’s right, I’m not really tired. I think it’s really sweet that Asha’s worried about her father, and I’d be glad to go tell him.”

Ezdral wavered.

“Thank you, Irith,” Asha murmured.

“Sit down, Ezdral,” Irith said.

Kelder, tired and fed up with the whole situation, said, “Yes, sit down.” Angry that the man he was trying to help was turning against him, he added the cruelest thing he could think of. Then, remembering the nature of the spell Ezdral was under, he immediately regretted it.

“Have a drink,” he said.