Ley Lines

Chapter 2 – Written-1

Chapter 2 – WrittenGailin wished with all her might, grasping the mysterious ball the hangman had given her. Then her stomach dropped as the footstool fell away. The rope at her neck snapped above her head. Even the one around her wrists and on the two bodies of the criminals beside her severed. The wish even included the lashing that held the gallows together and it began unraveling. The platform grew unsteady as she landed on her feet, still alive. To the gasps of the crowd she slid on the teetering platform toward her fellow victims and only caught herself from being clubbed in the head by the swinging leg of a dead man by sliding all the way to the ground.

In the mayhem that ensued, she turned to see her benefactor's back as he bolted through the streets and out of town, heading north east toward the surrounding forest. She could only see his dark head and remember his words. “Run for your life, Gailin.”

Run? She looked around herself at the horrified crowd and the tumbled timbers. She saw the real hangman rising out of the debris, rubbing his head and wondering what had happened to him. People in the crowd began pointing toward her and the shouts of 'witch' had only begun. If they had a slight reason for calling her a witch before she came to the gallows, then certainly this complete disaster did nothing to dispel the accusation. Her quick hands pocketed the little orb her rescuer had given her and without a second of thought she snatched up the book she had been standing on and bolted east, toward the forest after her mysterious benefactor.

* * *

For his part Drake began swearing under his breath. How had he not sensed this happening? The Mountain Man had performed more magic in the last few minutes than he had demonstrated in all the years Drake had stalked him. Now the dark sorcerer would have to run too if he were to catch his prey and what would happen then? A pitched magical battle? Drake didn't know if he could win such a contest and had survived to his ancient age by avoiding just such a situation. Instead, he used stealth and deception to work his way magically in this Land and if the Wise One was using such blatant power, something tremendous had changed. So what could Drake do instead of chasing across the countryside?

He looked to where the girl had run off and realized there lay his next move. She stood at the center of this mystery and Drake wanted to learn more of her before he did anything. So Drake approached the ruins of the gallows and found someone with whom to speak. “Excuse me, sir. What happened here?” he asked of the magistrate who was trying to examine the ropes that had unraveled. Meanwhile the rest of the men in town were gathering the wood or finding their pikes and swords to go after the girl.

“Magic, of course,” the magistrate grumbled. “She put a spell on all the ropes. We were hanging her for witchcraft and this proves it. Next time we'll burn her at the stake.”

“Is that wise, sir? How will you catch her?” Drake pretended innocently enough.

“She won't go far,” a woman nearby commented as she was wrapping the bodies of the two criminals so the debris of the gallows could be cleared. “Her Grandmother is still alive and Gailin wouldn't leave her.”

Drake stirred. He had the girl's name. If he wanted, he could call her to himself right now and put her under his spell, but that would be too obvious a magical trick and he didn't want to reveal himself quite yet, not if a bonfire were what awaited magic in this backwater village.

“Sir, where is Gailin's grandmother? I'm not from this town and she won't recognize me. If she comes back to her grandmother's home, I can send you word and you can catch her then.”

“Catch her?” the magistrate scoffed. “How? We didn't know she could do this much. Usually she just heals goats and the croup. Gailin's never done something this… this… destructive.”

“Except she let Kail die,” the lady wrapping the bodies commented. “Now we've lost the only healer in the village.”

The magistrate didn't want to hear another obvious flaw in his plan and so he pulled Drake farther away from the gallows and advised him on how to find Gailin's house, where she had been tending her grandmother until a few days before. After promising that he would inform the magistrate if Gailin returned to her home, Drake departed to find the cottage on the edge of the forest where he hoped he could lure the girl, if she did not come voluntarily. At least it had the advantage of being isolated, away from the village proper. From there he could simply call her and she would be his, heart and soul.

* * *

Jonis paced back and forth in front of the small cabin that bordered the forest edge. He couldn't stand being indoors right now, even if the house almost blended into the forest around it. Instead he appeased his guilt by keeping the door open to the late spring wind. He would hear if Gailin's grandmother stirred. It was the least he could do for the young lady he'd fallen in love with.

Grieving silently, Jonis trod back and forth from the kitchen garden on the southern side to the well-worn path weaving into the thinning forest. He had heard about the hanging and knew exactly what Gailin would have asked of him if he had been there when she was arrested: please watch over Grandmother and don't come to see the hanging. He had known Gailin all his life and while he could never actually say the words aloud, he loved her. Now his love was too late.

Grandmother, the only family Gailin ever had, rarely woke and Jonis had avoided answering the old woman's quavering questions whenever she did wake by feeding her the broth that the girl had left in the pot, but he could not bear speaking the words of truth to the grandmother. Gailin's hanging would kill Grandmother and Jonis couldn't face more death at this point. Nothing was going to be the same with Gailin gone.

Jonis looked up into the sky, glaring at the high noon sun. It would be done by now. Hung for helping. He could not believe the village would do such a thing. Primitive as they were how could anyone say an evil bone existed in Gailin's makeup? Miserably Jonis finally got together the nerve to go back into the hut, out from under the betraying noon sun to wait for Grandmother to waken and to share with her finally, the fate of her granddaughter.

* * *

Drake approached the rustic cabin cautiously. He didn't want to frighten the girl if she had already come back home. He pushed his magical awareness ahead of him and sensed two people in the cabin, one in bed, one upright but he could not guess at more. Therefore he would come as an expected visitor and walked up to the door to knock. People in this land were suspicious of many things but manners went a long way to reassuring them.

“Hello? Is anyone home?” he called and then stuck his head inside.

Only a small fire on the hearth lit the low, single room cottage and beyond the table Drake saw a young man who paced back and forth. From his distracted look he probably was a farmer in the local area, neglecting his fields at planting season out of devotion to his sweetheart by watching over her grandmother. The dirt and sweat on his clothes made it seem like he had come directly from the fields and his distress etched itself on his face. But as Drake walked in, it seemed the young man might crumble.

“Did they… did they…?” the young man began, his voice cracking.

Drake came into the hut and held out a hand. “Relax, young man. Gailin escaped. She sent me here to tell you, for she will not be able to come back. She wanted me to check on her grandmother. Now, what's your name, boy?”

“J…Jonis.”

“Well Jonis, I'm here to help. Has Gailin returned yet?”

Jonis gave him one confused look and Drake easily read in his simple mind; Gailin didn't even know how her beau had gallantly come to defend her home, anything to soften the blow for her.

And Gailin would never know, even now. Drake would not leave Jonis to interfere with what he now planned. The magician's green, careful eyes flicked a look at the old woman asleep in the bed beyond and then took a step toward the young farmer.

“Well, if she hasn't returned, then it's not too late.” Drake felt his mouth move into a false smile. His clever eyes caught the simple dirt brown stare of the confused peasant and reached out his hand toward him to say, without a bit of inflection, “Jonis, die.”

The farmer's head rolled back faster than his eyes, his knees buckling and he went down, obedient to the sorcerer's order. A sack of his own grain held more life than the bag of burly bones the young man represented while Drake soaked in yet another life force, strong and vibrant. The sorcerer trembled with pleasure and luxuriated in the warmth it brought to his gut. Then, without any ceremony, he made the earthen floor of the cabin swallow the farmer whole. Let him fertilize here rather than out in his fields somewhere.

Drake then turned to the old woman who slept on in oblivion. Taking her life, flickering and fading, would benefit nothing and might make Gailin suspicious. While he had every intention of using the girl, he wanted her willingly, not frightened or coerced magically. Wouldn't that be a feat: to command a magician without force?

So Drake would wait just as Jonis had, for Gailin to come home. The wizard might even walk the same path back and forth, pressing the disturbed earthen floor, just in case it appeared like someone was buried there. Drake could wait patiently.

* * *

At dusk Vamilion stopped his stealthy path through the forest, pausing at a creek that ran through the trees to rest and take his bearings. He needed to listen to the magic that moved around him. He could sense the dark sorcerer had given up the search for him, having remained behind in the village. The girl, the new Wise One, she had survived her hanging and Vamilion's awkward attempt to rescue her. Vamilion magically sensed how she had followed him into the forest, though she had fallen several miles behind, and had also stopped for the evening. He could practically taste her fear and confusion. Well, that meant he could continue to help her after a fashion. He only hoped this worked.

Vamilion drew on the magic he possessed to conjure a fire, a bucket in which to put water and a quick meal all while he found a mossy stone under the trees to serve as a seat. Then with a bit more concentration he conjured a tablet with a blackwood stylus to match it. He had never actually done this, but until he trained Gailin, hopefully from a distance, he had a responsibility to help her. He would not leave her in this new magical world to stumble into her powers as his mentor had done to him.

Tapping into his imagination, Vamilion crafted a link between the tablet he held and the book that Gailin hopefully still carried with her. Creating that link after the fact was difficult magic. Could the girl even read? That wasn't a guarantee in this newly colonized land, full of pioneers and little opportunity to study a more civilized art like reading. If she couldn't read or write, this effort to teach from a distance just got more difficult. Slowly, with the flickering firelight as his guide, Vamilion began writing on his tablet with the stylus and imagined the book in the girl's possession reflected his message. He then sculpted a yearning for her to look into the book and discover its secrets.

Hopefully her curiosity would guide her. Gailin had stopped in the forest and found a place to rest, curling up around her pit of fear, though she would never be able to sleep after the scare she had experienced. Vamilion imagined her staring wide-eyed up through the branches of the forest at the full moon overhead and would feel the tickling desire to explore the prize she had taken with her. She would sit up in the twilight and open the book, brushing her hands across the blank pages and then see how his words seeped onto the first page, line by careful line. She would want to know about the magic that had rescued, and then abruptly abandoned her. It would be in her nature as a Wise One to want to know more.