Brightly Woven
Page 44
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I nodded.
“Just wish me luck and let me go,” he said.
I looked down. “You don’t need luck.”
He laughed, bringing my hand up to kiss it.
“Try to find a place to hide, or get as far away as you can,” he said.
“What about you?” I said.
“I’ll find you, as soon as I possibly can,” he said, wrapping a loose curl around his finger. “You’re a bit hard to miss, you know.”
He backed away, pulling his cloak up and leaving me trembling and alone.
The path we had taken down the mountain wasn’t difficult to follow, and the walk back was made easier by the fact that I had left our bags and my loom in the wagon. I was supposed to be with them, of course, but I didn’t care what North wanted—I wasn’t going to sit there and wait for him to return.
Jinx, my mind whispered.
A terrible boom echoed through the air, and I ran. A blast of wind blew my skirts up around me, and fist-sized rocks began to rain down. My boots threatened to trip me up against the loose rocks and soil, but I kept running. Another loud crash echoed through the pass, ringing out so loudly I thought it would consume me.
Someone screamed—a man’s voice, strained and distorted. I saw a cloud of red fire cut through the sunlit opening of the pass, followed by a man shouting, “Come on, you can do better!”
I couldn’t tell who it belonged to, and that scared me more than anything.
The slope was steep; I fell at one point and scrambled the rest of the way up on my hands and knees. The ground shook with the force of their spells.
The pass had brought me out far above where we had entered with the wagon. I could see the wizards throwing around blasts of fire, light, earth, wind, and ice as if it was the most natural thing in the world. The only source of shelter I could find was a gnarled tree, brown and barren. I was about halfway up the slope from them, but I could hear and see as clearly as if I was beside them.
Dorwan thrust his dagger onto the ground, and a vein of black ice sprang up, solidifying around North’s heavy boots. North shattered it easily, kicking free. He didn’t hesitate longer than a fraction of a second before he pulled up the red cloak and a line of fire shot through the air. It wrapped around Dorwan, and North yanked the other end, dragging his opponent to his knees.
Dorwan’s dagger came up and cut cleanly through the cloak, severing the magic. He frantically patted down his shirt, which was still smoldering from the effects of North’s spell.
North swept his hand across his brow, wiping away sweat.
“Don’t tell me you’re tired already,” Dorwan said.
“Not too tired to burn that smirk off your sodding face!” North snarled. His fingers rested on the edges of his cloaks, poised to choose the next one.
“I have all the time in the world,” Dorwan said, throwing his talisman up into the air.
Water poured from the sky, knocking both North and me off our feet. The trembling of the ground was more pronounced now; small rocks bounced past me from above, and the dirt shifted beneath my feet. North’s next explosion of rock and soil from the ground missed Dorwan completely. I saw Dorwan’s sleeve pull back and the horrible lines of scars that ran along his arm.
“What’s the matter with you?” Dorwan complained. “You’re distracted.”
“Shut up and fight!” North growled, shaking his head.
Dorwan thrust his dagger in front of him. A million fragments of ice raced toward North, their tips aimed directly at his chest.
North instantly countered, bringing up his yellow cloak. The icicles hit a wall of wind and air and were pushed back. Dorwan’s unmarred eye narrowed at the force of the spell, and his face twisted into what I thought was supposed to be a smile. The scarred skin of his face shone in the sunlight.
There was something graceful about the way North pulled his cloaks up in wide, sweeping circles. If the pace of the fight picked up, he would have only a moment to grasp the colored fabric in his hand, or to wrench it up to shield his face. At first glance, it all seemed effortless.
Dorwan moved fluidly with his dagger, twice shallowly slicing through North’s skin. But North still had him—was moments away from finishing it, perhaps. He launched one spell after another, beating Dorwan down to his knees. I watched as Dorwan disappeared into a wall of fire, before pushing himself through, dousing himself with the water of his own spell.
It was then that Dorwan showed what he was truly capable of. He cast one spell after another in rapid succession, ignoring North’s turns and shouts. Clouds of smoke and ice wrapped around North, and Dorwan flashed about, moving so quickly it seemed he was everywhere at once. He followed every spell with a swipe of his dagger, catching North’s clothing and skin until blood flew into the air.
One spell after another, and then another—it was too much. A spike of ice shot out of the earth beneath North, knocking him clear off his feet. He lay there, panting and shaking.
“Get up!” I whispered desperately, clutching my necklace. “Get up, get up!”
North pushed himself onto his elbows, and I thought he would take his chance to rally. He shot off a poorly guided blast of ice that Dorwan swatted away with his bare hand, his boot connecting with North’s head and sending it back down into the mud.
I couldn’t do anything without revealing myself or distracting North even more. My vision blurred with tears, and blood pounded in my head. Control was slipping away from me, and I couldn’t stop trembling. North still hadn’t gotten up, and now Dorwan knelt beside him.
“Just wish me luck and let me go,” he said.
I looked down. “You don’t need luck.”
He laughed, bringing my hand up to kiss it.
“Try to find a place to hide, or get as far away as you can,” he said.
“What about you?” I said.
“I’ll find you, as soon as I possibly can,” he said, wrapping a loose curl around his finger. “You’re a bit hard to miss, you know.”
He backed away, pulling his cloak up and leaving me trembling and alone.
The path we had taken down the mountain wasn’t difficult to follow, and the walk back was made easier by the fact that I had left our bags and my loom in the wagon. I was supposed to be with them, of course, but I didn’t care what North wanted—I wasn’t going to sit there and wait for him to return.
Jinx, my mind whispered.
A terrible boom echoed through the air, and I ran. A blast of wind blew my skirts up around me, and fist-sized rocks began to rain down. My boots threatened to trip me up against the loose rocks and soil, but I kept running. Another loud crash echoed through the pass, ringing out so loudly I thought it would consume me.
Someone screamed—a man’s voice, strained and distorted. I saw a cloud of red fire cut through the sunlit opening of the pass, followed by a man shouting, “Come on, you can do better!”
I couldn’t tell who it belonged to, and that scared me more than anything.
The slope was steep; I fell at one point and scrambled the rest of the way up on my hands and knees. The ground shook with the force of their spells.
The pass had brought me out far above where we had entered with the wagon. I could see the wizards throwing around blasts of fire, light, earth, wind, and ice as if it was the most natural thing in the world. The only source of shelter I could find was a gnarled tree, brown and barren. I was about halfway up the slope from them, but I could hear and see as clearly as if I was beside them.
Dorwan thrust his dagger onto the ground, and a vein of black ice sprang up, solidifying around North’s heavy boots. North shattered it easily, kicking free. He didn’t hesitate longer than a fraction of a second before he pulled up the red cloak and a line of fire shot through the air. It wrapped around Dorwan, and North yanked the other end, dragging his opponent to his knees.
Dorwan’s dagger came up and cut cleanly through the cloak, severing the magic. He frantically patted down his shirt, which was still smoldering from the effects of North’s spell.
North swept his hand across his brow, wiping away sweat.
“Don’t tell me you’re tired already,” Dorwan said.
“Not too tired to burn that smirk off your sodding face!” North snarled. His fingers rested on the edges of his cloaks, poised to choose the next one.
“I have all the time in the world,” Dorwan said, throwing his talisman up into the air.
Water poured from the sky, knocking both North and me off our feet. The trembling of the ground was more pronounced now; small rocks bounced past me from above, and the dirt shifted beneath my feet. North’s next explosion of rock and soil from the ground missed Dorwan completely. I saw Dorwan’s sleeve pull back and the horrible lines of scars that ran along his arm.
“What’s the matter with you?” Dorwan complained. “You’re distracted.”
“Shut up and fight!” North growled, shaking his head.
Dorwan thrust his dagger in front of him. A million fragments of ice raced toward North, their tips aimed directly at his chest.
North instantly countered, bringing up his yellow cloak. The icicles hit a wall of wind and air and were pushed back. Dorwan’s unmarred eye narrowed at the force of the spell, and his face twisted into what I thought was supposed to be a smile. The scarred skin of his face shone in the sunlight.
There was something graceful about the way North pulled his cloaks up in wide, sweeping circles. If the pace of the fight picked up, he would have only a moment to grasp the colored fabric in his hand, or to wrench it up to shield his face. At first glance, it all seemed effortless.
Dorwan moved fluidly with his dagger, twice shallowly slicing through North’s skin. But North still had him—was moments away from finishing it, perhaps. He launched one spell after another, beating Dorwan down to his knees. I watched as Dorwan disappeared into a wall of fire, before pushing himself through, dousing himself with the water of his own spell.
It was then that Dorwan showed what he was truly capable of. He cast one spell after another in rapid succession, ignoring North’s turns and shouts. Clouds of smoke and ice wrapped around North, and Dorwan flashed about, moving so quickly it seemed he was everywhere at once. He followed every spell with a swipe of his dagger, catching North’s clothing and skin until blood flew into the air.
One spell after another, and then another—it was too much. A spike of ice shot out of the earth beneath North, knocking him clear off his feet. He lay there, panting and shaking.
“Get up!” I whispered desperately, clutching my necklace. “Get up, get up!”
North pushed himself onto his elbows, and I thought he would take his chance to rally. He shot off a poorly guided blast of ice that Dorwan swatted away with his bare hand, his boot connecting with North’s head and sending it back down into the mud.
I couldn’t do anything without revealing myself or distracting North even more. My vision blurred with tears, and blood pounded in my head. Control was slipping away from me, and I couldn’t stop trembling. North still hadn’t gotten up, and now Dorwan knelt beside him.
