The Wizard's Daughters: Twin Magic: Book 1 (12 page)

The next day was much the same. The girls had grown bored and quarrelsome, and Erich did his best to stay out of their way. He and Walther discussed setting out despite the weather, but the artificer refused.

“I have lost one woman I loved to fever,” he said. “I will not risk any more.” So they remained.

Just before noon on the third day at the inn, the rain finally let up. Erich walked out the town gate to assess things, concluding that the storm had passed.

“But the road is a morass,” he told Walther. “The wagon will have difficulty. We will do well just to reach the next town by nightfall.”

In fact, they did not reach it until well after dark, when the wagon and nearly everything else was splattered with mud. As they stabled the horses that night, Walther paid extra to have everything washed down. But he was feeling tired and irritable, and took his dinner to their room, leaving Erich and the girls in the tavern.

The innkeeper had brought them a plate of boiled beef and vegetables. Ariel and Astrid picked over theirs, while Erich dug in.

“Is this what adventuring is like?” Astrid asked.

“More often than I would prefer,” he replied.

“What do you do when there is no inn to shelter in?”

“Put up an oilskin or find a large tree. Sometimes there is nothing, and one must simply sit there in the rain.”

Astrid shuddered.

“I cannot imagine it.”

Ariel had been avoiding talking to him since the night of the resonance cube explosion, and she showed no interest in joining this conversation either.

“It is not a life for those who have other options, unless you are the sort of person for whom civilized society holds little attraction.”

“And which are you?”

“A bit of both.”

Astrid looked down at her plate, pushed her beef around a bit more, then looked at her sister.

“Ariel told me your story.”

Ariel’s eyes shot up in surprise. She glanced back and forth between the two of them, unable to settle between embarrassment at breaking her promise to Erich or anger at Astrid’s betrayal.

“I expected as much,” he said. “It is no great matter.”

“I’m sorry,” Ariel said. “I couldn’t help it.”

“You told me secrets of Astrid’s. I suppose she has a right to know.”

Ariel looked down again.

“So you wander because you have no other options?” Astrid asked.

“I wander because I prefer no others, not that I have many to chose from. I must earn a living. I have little other ways of doing so besides my sword, and employment such as that is rarely long term.”

“What will you do when Father no longer needs you?”

Ariel looked up at this. But Erich shrugged.

“I do not know.”

None of them said anything more for a few minutes. Erich found himself full and shoved his plate aside, but in doing so, his aim was slightly off, and he hit the lamp on the table, extinguishing the flame.

“Blast.” He righted the thing and moved to get the innkeeper to relight it. But Astrid stopped him.

“We can do it.”

She and Ariel touched index fingers, whispering something under their breath. When they withdrew their hands, a flame sparked into life in the air between them. They pointed at the lamp, and the flame moved toward it, settling on the wick. The lamp was relit.

“A neat trick,” Erich said.

“Father is an artificer,” Astrid said. “Our talents lie with the natural world, healing, the elements. Fire, water, air, and earth. That sort of thing.”

“Can you do more than light candles?”

“It depends. Ariel and I must cast spells together. It is related to why we must marry the same man.”

“She explained that.” Ariel glanced up at him, then back down to the table.

“But for some reason, our magic works best with odd numbers. It is strong against one thing, or three, or five. But with even numbers, it often fails.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Watch.” She put her hands together with Ariel again, and they summoned another flame, this time letting it float in the air. “One flame is easy.” She tapped two fingers against two of Ariel’s and another two appeared. “And three.” She did it again. “And five.”

Five little flames were dancing in the air over the table, floating around and beginning to circle one other. A few of the other townspeople in the tavern looked over at them.

“Even seven is not difficult.” Two more joined the rest. “But if we take one away . . .”

With a flick of her finger, she banished one of the flames. Almost immediately, the others begun flickering and losing strength, finally guttering out like a candle whose wick had sunk too far into the wax.

“That is interesting.”

“Yes. We think it has something to do with the way our flows are joined. Dealing with even numbers of targets seems to separate them. With odd numbers, the flow is smooth.”

Erich thought for a moment.

“And you cannot marry different men because it would separate your flows in the same manner.”

Astrid nodded. “More or less, yes.”

Erich took a swig of ale. “If this is impertinent, feel free to tell me to go to hell. But is this something you are comfortable with?”

Astrid shrugged. “We have no choice.”

Ariel finally spoke up. “If it were the right man, I could be happy with it.” She glanced at her sister. “I do not want to live apart from Astrid. I am hoping and praying this is meant to be and there is a mage out there whom we can match with happily.”

“But if not,” Astrid said, “there is little we can do. It is share a husband, or abandon our talents.”

♦ ♦

The next morning, the mud had begun to dry, and the going was easier. But the weather warmed up as well, and soon the air was humid and muggy. Erich had to remove his corselet, then his shirt. The girls eyed him discreetly, but he pretended not to notice.

The road had been winding through a long valley along a narrow river, but toward afternoon, they crossed a bridge and began climbing into the hills.

“Is this where the ogres are?” Astrid asked.

“No. Not for at least another twenty miles. These are still settled lands. There is a village over the next hill where we should stop for the night. We will lose some traveling time, but it is that or sleep beside the road.”

“We should take our beds where we find them,” Walther said.

“Aye. Because before long, we will have none.”

The weather held for the next few days, and they made better time. The trees had begun to color with the approaching fall, and Erich allowed himself to begin enjoying the trip. Fall in this region was the most pleasant time of the year—absent the occasional thunderstorm—and it was certainly better than the summer heat or winter snowstorms. He only hoped their business in Köln was done soon enough for him to escape they city before he was trapped by the snows.

The hills grew more rugged, and before long the road was winding through one dale to the next before climbing through a pass between two steep cliffs. Beyond that, they reached the largest town on their route, and the last one before they entered the forest they had been warned of.

That night, Erich again asked around the tavern where they secured their rooms about the ogres at the river. A grizzled town guard confirmed the story.

“There are at least two of them. I’ve heard stories saying there are four of five, but I’m not sure I believe it. They’ve been preying on the road where it crosses the river about ten miles north. The lord here won’t do nothing. Says that crossing is the responsibility of the count over the hill.”

“No one has tried to kill them?”

“Some have. There’s a bounty on them, but those that have gone to collect it have either found nothing or not returned at all. They’re cunning, those bastards. Smarter than you’d think ogres would be. You’d best be on your guard the entire way. Be prepared to bolt the moment you see them. From what I’ve heard, sometimes they watch the crossing, sometimes they hit you when you’re past it and think you’re free.”

“Ogres are not usually that crafty.”

“No. Which makes me think they may not be working alone. May be there are others directing them.”

“Not all ogres are stupid. Most, but not all.”

“No.”

The guard finished his ale and looked pointedly at his tankard. Erich waved for a barmaid to refill it.

“Thank you, sir.”

“I appreciate the news, though it is not good.”

“You watch yourselves. Plenty have made it over that hill safely. They don’t seem to go after every group going through.”

“Perhaps we will be lucky.”

“You’ll have my blessing, for what little that’s worth.” He cackled. “Good luck to you.”

19.

Before they set out the next morning, Erich relayed what he had learned the evening before.

“We will likely have two nights, maybe three, sleeping beside the road. I need you all to keep your wits about you and stay together. Keep the rest of us in sight at all times, even when conducting your personal business. Better a little embarrassment than to risk getting separated. Even without the ogres, there are wolves and other beasts in this forest. And there are worse things than ogres if you venture too far from the road.”

“Like what?” Ariel asked.

“I have not seen much beyond ogres, but I have heard stories. Things that have been here much longer than men. Things that should have died long ago, but did not. Things that have died, but have not gone to their graves. Things that may mean you no harm but that can lure you places you will never find your way out of, and things that can do far worse than just kill you.”

But despite Erich’s warning, the first day out of the town was uneventful. They saw nothing more exotic than jays and pine martens, and nothing more bewitching than the ever-deepening fall color.

Near nightfall, they pulled off the road and found a level spot to camp. Erich built a fire, which the girls lit with a few flicks of their fingers, and set about preparing dinner.

“Won’t the fire attract attention?” Astrid asked.

“It may, but it will also keep at bay things we need to deter. On the whole, better to have one than not.”

♦ ♦

Ariel sat down next to Erich while he watched their dinner cooking over the fire.

“Tell me something,” he asked. “What is the distinction between artificing and natural magic? Is it like fighting with different weapons? A sword versus a spear? Something of that nature?”

She turned toward him and then drew a circle in the dirt between them.

“There are four main schools of magic.” She divided the circle into quarters. “There is natural magic on one side, physical magic on the other.” She drew runes in two quarters she had indicated. “Between them are mysticism and divination.” Two more runes went into those quarters.

“Each school has different disciplines.” She pointed to the physical quarter. “Physical magic includes artificing, war wizardry, and alchemy. Natural magic includes healing, elementalism, and animalism.”

“Animalism?”

“Being able to speak to and influence animals. Powerful animalists can even take animal form.”

“And you and Astrid specialize in elementalism? Like the fire?”

She shook her head. “We have not yet settled on a discipline. We know a bit of everything right now. Not all mages even take a discipline, especially among naturalists. In naturalism, the disciplines are complementary, and there are benefits to being skilled in each.”

“All right. What of the others?”

“Divination is not divided as neatly as the other three schools. There are different means of divining secrets and the future, but they all do more or less the same thing.”

She took a deep breath and pointed to the last quarter. “Mysticism is the rarest school, in part because much of what mystics do can taint a mage’s soul. Powerful mystics can influence thoughts, bewitch people, or summon spirits. But summoning the wrong spirits can be very dangerous. That is partly why mysticism has a bad reputation. The university in Köln, they teach naturalism, physical magic, and divination, but not mysticism. The Church would never allow it. Most evil mages in the world are mystics, and many of those were once good mages who were overcome by evil spirits they summoned.”

“Why would one even do such a thing?” he asked.

“Powerful spirits can do great things, if they can be controlled. The most evil of them can animate the dead. But the more powerful they are, the more difficult it is to bend them to your will.”

“I am glad you two have not chosen to be mystics, then.”

She shook her head again. “We have not the skill for it, even if we wished to. One does not chose a school, it chooses you.”

♦ ♦

Walther squatted by the fire as Erich finished up the dinner. “Had I thought of doing so, I could have contrived some small automata that might have been able to guard our camp, or at least alert us to danger. I am afraid I have been too long in town.”

“Pity.”

“Yes.”

The girls came up with something clearly on their minds.

“What?” Erich asked.

“Father may have no automata, but there is a spell we could cast,” Astrid said. “We have not tried it before, but it should work. It won’t do very much, but it will at least let us know if anything enters the camp.”

“How so?” Walther asked.

“We found it in a book in the library,” Ariel said. “It gives life to the moonlight to watch over us until the sun rises.”

“That must have been one of your mother’s. Give it a try, then.”

The two of them stood away from the fire, chanting a low incantation as they held their arms in the air. The straight beams of moonlight coming through the trees began to bend, to swirl into a form at the edge of the camp. But before it could coalesce fully, they seemed to lose control of it, and it dissipated.

“It’s so slippery,” Ariel said. “Like trying to hold water in your fingers.”

“Let’s try again,” Astrid said.

They began the spell a second time. Erich rose from beside the fire, walking up behind them—though not too close—to get a better look. As he approached, he could somehow feel the energies flowing between the two girls, energies that almost seemed to flow through him as well.