Magic of Wind and Mist

  “Thank you again,” he said. “For the potion. I’m not sure—” He waved one hand around vaguely.

  “Not sure you’d have been able to mix the sysab and the coral powder together?” I grinned at him. “Yeah, my arm was pretty tired.”

  Isolfr laughed, then sat down beside me. He didn’t say anything as I ate, and he didn’t eat anything himself. No need to keep up pretenses with me.

  “How much longer till we arrive?” I said.

  “A few more days, I think.”

  I sighed and pressed my head against the wall. “You’d think Lord Trystan could have left us a can and some dice. Something to pass the time.”

  Isolfr smiled a little. “It wasn’t Lord Trystan who set up the carriage,” he said. “It was Mr. Formenti. I suspect he was unhappy about having to tend to us, so he left out the entertainment.”

  I rolled my eyes and popped another piece of sausage in my mouth.

  The carriage jostled.

  I froze, my heart pounding in my ears. It’s just a rut in the road, I told myself. We just ran over—

  It jostled again, more violently this time. The walls let out a long, clanging wheeze as the carriage tilted over to one side, then slammed back upright. My meal flew off my plate and scattered among the pillows.

  “What’s happening?” I said in a panicked rush. “What’s—”

  The carriage tilted again, dropping down into a sharp angle. The pillows went sliding across the floor. Jars and bottles fell off the shelves. I braced myself against the wall, the plate sliding off my lap and cracking into two pieces.

  “Isolfr!” I shouted. “What the hell is happening?”

  We tilted farther. I slid against the floor, and I knew that soon the floor was going to be the wall, and the wall was going to be the floor.

  “I don’t know,” Isolfr said. He pressed himself against the floor too, his hands splayed out, the knuckles turning white.

  “It’s Lord Foxfollow,” I said, just as the carriage finally tipped. For a moment I felt as if I was flying. There was a half second of peace.

  Then I slammed against the far wall—the floor now. Pain shuddered up through my spine. Isolfr landed beside me, light on his feet like a cat, and crouched down, his eyes wide.

  “He shouldn’t have found us,” he said.

  “Well, he did!”

  The carriage tilted again, rolling back the other way. The light flickered and went out. This time I tucked my head into my arms and screamed as I tumbled over the pillows and the food jars—strangely unbroken—landing with another sharp shudder of pain on the other side. Isolfr shouted, his words blurring together. My ears rang.

  “—Right yourself—”

  I blinked, not understanding. Right myself? I sat up hesitantly. The carriage was still again. Isolfr floated in the middle of the room, his hands clenched into fists. He shouted up at the ceiling.

  “Right yourself, carriage!” he shouted. “Activate your protection spells!”

  I waited to feel something, some trickle of magic, but it never came. Isolfr looked over at me, his face drained of color and full of fear.

  “Are you hurt?” he said.

  I shook my head even though I wasn’t sure if that was true. My body ached all over. When I looked down at my arms, bruises were blossoming under my skin.

  “Right yourself!” Isolfr shouted again. Nothing happened. I hunched in the dark, my muscles tensed. The air felt thick and stale.

  “Carriage!” Isolfr shouted.

  “It’s pointless,” I said. “The magic’s gone.”

  Isolfr shook his head. “No. No, it can’t. We’ll never make our way across the empty—”

  And then, outside the carriage, there came a whomping roar like the sound of a fire igniting. Isolfr paled and dropped out of his place in the air. When he hit the ground he vanished.

  “Isolfr!” I screamed, trying to scramble up to standing, feeling my way along the wall. The air stirred, a cold, sweet-smelling breeze. The north wind. The north wind of my home. Isolfr.

  He coalesced a few paces away from me, transparent and fuzzy at the edges and looking absolutely terrified.

  “We have to get out of here,” he said in a voice like the moan of the wind. “We have to get away.”

  “What is it?” I was shaking, my heart thundering inside my chest. “Is it him? It’s him! Are we going to die?” I paused, horror squeezing the breath out of my lungs. “Am I going to die? How could you turn to wind like that when I don’t have that option and he’s out there and—”

  A sweltering wave of heat washed over the carriage, heat like nothing I’d ever felt before. It sucked the air right out of me and left me gasping and sweating and leaning up against the wall.

  Isolfr vanished again.

  “Damn you!” I shouted into the empty carriage. “Gods and ancestors both! Don’t you dare leave me—”

  I felt a cool trickle of air against the side of my cheek. It felt like a kiss of respite against the smoldering heat.

  “Isolfr,” I gasped. “Please—”

  Another blast of heat, like the Empire sun itself was enveloping the carriage in its embrace. I screamed. The cold air wrapped around me, cooling the heat in my skin. Smoke crawled along the walls. A fire flickered in one of the corners.

  The wind—Isolfr—lifted me up, cradling me, gentle against my bruises, cold enough that I felt relief from the heat wavering in the corner of my vision. We flew over to the side door—it was on the ceiling now. I reached out and flung it open. Light and heat poured in, bright and spangling. It hurt my eyes. Isolfr grew colder, cold enough that my teeth chattered, but I didn’t care.

  “Wh—what are we going to see—” I began, but he didn’t answer, not even in the wind’s howling whisper.

  Another roar, closer this time.

  Isolfr shot straight up into the air, barreling us both toward the pale sky. Wind buffeted against my face, tugging on my skin. I clenched my teeth to choke back my fear. I didn’t know it was possible to move so fast.

  And then we stopped, suspended in the middle of the air.

  “Isolfr?” I whispered.

  His voice fluttered in my thoughts. We must—

  I heard the flapping of wings. Spots of diamond-bright light fell across my eyes.

  A dragon.

  I craned my head around and saw it, the dark shadow winging toward us. Its blackened scales glowed like embers.

  “Isolfr!” I screamed.

  He dropped down, taking me with him. For a moment I was sure we were falling, the swell of grass rising up to meet us. Then he lifted me up before we hit, skimming just above the surface. The dragon let out its thunderous, horrifying roar and released a shimmering wave of heat that made Isolfr’s cold wind steam. We swooped around in a billowing arc, over the carriage burning to ash beneath us. More dragons crawled among the flames, their diamond scales glittering.

  Hanna, Isolfr whispered around me, his voice billowy and soft like the steam. Hanna, I can’t—this heat is too much.

  “Isolfr!” I shouted. We were dropping toward the earth, toward the violet flowers that only a few days ago I had found so beautiful, the dragon flapping behind us, belching heat. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the cool velvety sensation of Isolfr wrapped around me, the assurance of the wind, the reminder of Kjora. My home. My parents and brother. My friends. Everyone I’d ever known, ever loved.

  I would never see them again. Isolfr had tried but it wasn’t enough against the heat of the dragons. I was going to burn here in the Mists.

  I tumbled into the grass. For a moment it was all I could see. Isolfr’s cool touch disappeared. I rolled my aching body onto my back and stared up at the pale sky and waited for the dragon to consume me.

  It appeared overhead, the long reptile snout with teeth glowing red.

  I lay shaking in the grass, too terrified even to scream.

  The dragon opened its mouth, and I could see the heat rising up in its throat.
r />   I closed my eyes and said a prayer to the ancestors, begging them to welcome me among their ranks.

  But then there was a horrible, piercing cry, a sound like glass shattering. My eyes flew open just in time to see the dragon slamming sideways away from me. The scent of strange, steely magic drifted on the air.

  I lay still, too dazed too move. A soft thumping echoed in the distance, hooves against the ground, but I couldn’t see anything through the wall of grass.

  A shadow passed over me, not a dragon but a creature like a reindeer, long-limbed and sprouting antlers. It leaped over me and went racing in the direction of the dragon. I forced myself to sit up, all my muscles screaming. A man sat on top of the creature, cradling a narrow staff in his arms, the top end streaming ribbons of pale mist. I stared as the man galloped toward the dragon. The dragon crawled to its feet and spread out its wings, blocking the light from the sky. Its throat glowed orange-gold.

  The man thrust his staff toward the dragon, and the mist slammed up against the wave of heat. Mist billowed out over the grass. The man held his staff tight, his body leaned forward, one hand tangled in his mount’s thick, shaggy mane. The mist grew thicker and crept through the grass. I crawled backward, trying to get away from it. I could smell the magic, that scent like cold metal, but more than that I could feel it, interacting with the magic inside of me. It was too close to the magic I had accessed when I had saved Isolfr, and I was afraid of creating another blast that I couldn’t control.

  Up ahead, the dragon reared up on its hind legs and let out one of those frightening, whomping roars we’d heard before the carriage was attacked. I clamped my hands over my ears and curled up in the grass, my head ringing. The man lifted his staff and more mist belched out, gray and shimmery and thick. It wrapped around the dragon, concealing it. The dragon roared again. The man shouted something I couldn’t understand. The staff was shaking, rattling back and forth with the force of its magic.

  Another shout, and then the mist converged into a towering silvery column. The magic inside of me rioted. I felt like my insides had turned to insects, buzzing and chattering.

  Everything went as still as death.

  And then the column of mist flattened out, swooping over the ground with such speed that I’d hardly realized what had happened until the cold, damp mass was on me. I screamed and when I did I breathed, sucking the mist into my lungs. It burned the inside of my nose and the back of my throat. I scrambled to my feet, whirling around, dizzy with magic. The landscape had turned gray and hazy with the fog, and the light from the sky was diffuse and pale. I couldn’t see much more than shapes in the grass—the shapes of mounted men, of our broken carriage. No dragons.

  I lurched forward with my head down, trying not to breath in the mist. Distantly, I heard heroic cheers, and then a strange, unearthly chant in men’s voices—it reminded me of the victory chants boys at home would shout together. I stumbled through the grass, trying to get away from the sound of the chanting.

  “Isolfr!” I shouted, and my voice bounced around oddly, echoing and distorting. “Isolfr, where are you?”

  I was answered with the sound of his name bouncing back to me through the mist. I choked back a sob of fear. He had to be here. Even if he was in the form of wind, so he couldn’t be hurt by the dragons, he wouldn’t leave me—

  I tripped over a patch of loose grass, stumbled, caught myself. The mist swirled around me. For a moment it thinned, revealing a dark, unmoving shape up ahead. Too small to be a dragon.

  “Isolfr!” I conjured up my strength and raced forward. It was Isolfr. He lay stretched out in the grass, unmoving, his arms twisted at strange angles.

  Not again, I thought. Not when the carriage has been destroyed—

  And then something gripped me from behind, jerking me back by my arm.

  “Oh, no you don’t. The lord’s gonna wanna talk to you.”

  The voice was harsh and rough at the edges and male. I screamed and thrashed against his grip, but he only hauled me up closer to him, at which point he wrapped his arm around my waist and pinned me in place. I twisted around to look at him. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with long black hair and looming gray eyes. A scar, pale against his dark skin, ran in a jagged line over one eye.

  “No use fighting,” he said. “Flynn’s got the mist working on you. You’ll be calm as a kitten in a few breaths’ time.”

  “No!” I kicked against him, trying to aim my blows between his legs. He laughed and jostled me so that my legs flew out into the empty air.

  “Flynn!” he bellowed over his shoulder. “You got that spell changed? This one’s gonna be a heap of trouble, I can already tell.”

  A voice called out through the fog: “Takes time, Quinton.”

  Quinton grunted. “Wizards,” he muttered. “They’re always taking their time.”

  I kept kicking and struggling against him, even though my thoughts were growing hazy. I knew it was from magic: It was my magic that was doing it, in fact, bewitching me without my permission. The mist. I’d felt the interaction.

  I kicked one last time with all my might, trying to swing my way out of Quinton’s grip. He squeezed me tighter. Through the fog, a dark mountain of a man approached Isolfr. He stopped and looked down.

  “Got another one!” he shouted, and Quinton laughed, and the voices poured into my head as the magic finally worked its way through my system, dragging me down, down into darkness.

  Lord Foxfollow, I thought, he’s found us.

  And then the world vanished into mist.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  I woke up in the back of a cart, my wrists bound behind my back. My head throbbed and every time I breathed I felt something move inside my lungs, as if I was struck down with winter sickness. It was nighttime, the sky murky green and starless overhead, the air freezing against my bare face.

  Isolfr lay beside me, eyes closed, hands bound.

  The cart rattled and jostled. The wheels clacked as if they were striking against stone, not grass and dirt, and so I pushed myself up, trying to see over the side of the cart. But I couldn’t see anything in the dim shadows.

  I collapsed back down, taking a deep breath. Men’s voices drifted up from the front of the cart. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but every now and then they’d erupt into gales of raucous laughter. They sounded like they’d be more at home in a mead hall, slamming their cups together and flirting with the serving girls.

  After a few moments passed, I tried to sit up again. My body screamed in protest, but I managed to lurch myself up so that my shoulders were leaning against the side of the cart. I wriggled my hands, trying to get comfortable. The ropes binding me weren’t so tight as to be painful, but they weren’t loose enough that I’d be able to pull my hands free, either.

  I stretched one foot across the cart and nudged Isolfr in the side. I didn’t like it when his eyes were closed like that, knowing he didn’t have to sleep.

  “Isolfr,” I hissed, trying to keep my voice low. “Isolfr, are you all right?”

  I nudged him again. Up in the front of the cart, one of the men shouted, “And it turned out it was the merchant’s daughter!” and they all roared with laughter. I flopped back. Despite the freezing air, my hands were sweaty and hot from being tucked behind my back. I thought maybe if they were slick enough I’d be able to pull free—

  No. The rope scraped against my skin, burning it. I gave up and nudged Isolfr again.

  This time, his eyes fluttered open.

  “You’re alive!” I said, more loudly than I intended. Isolfr frowned, then twisted his head up to the sky.

  “Where are we?” he said in a low voice.

  “I don’t know.”

  Something long and thin slammed down into the cart with a thud—the handle of an axe. “Quiet back there!” roared one of the voices, and I glanced up at its owner, a hard-looking man with thick brown hair. He scowled at me.

  “We just want to know where you’re taki
ng us,” I said, drawing my chest up. Isolfr cowered in his place in the corner.

  “Where the hell do you think we’re taking you to? The lord’s manor.” The man jutted his thumb over his shoulder. “You were trespassing on his lands. The two of you are worth a sweeter price than those dragon carcasses.”

  With that, he disappeared from my view. I couldn’t move. Worth a sweet price. The lord’s manor. I looked over at Isolfr, who was still staring at me with that fearful expression of his.

  “He’s found us,” I said. “Lord Fox—”

  “I told you two to be quiet!” The same voice from the front. Isolfr recoiled and then fixed his gaze back on me.

  “We don’t know for certain,” he said.

  I kicked out at Isolfr in frustration, although I had no intention of actually hitting him. “Your friend sold us out!”

  “Never.” Isolfr shook his head. “He hates Lord Foxfollow more than I do. More than anyone in our world, I’d wager, and he would never have sent our carriage through his lands.”

  “So where are we going?” I hunched forward, hoping the constant rattle of the cart would mask our discussion. The men up front hadn’t seemed to notice again. “Would your Lord Trystan truss us up like this?”

  Isolfr glared at me. “If he took us on an out-of-the-way route, we might have passed through another lord’s lands before we could arrive at Trystan’s. That’s likely where they’re taking us. Calixto, I think, is the lord’s name.”

  “Is that going to be a problem?” My heart fluttered hard against the inside of my chest, and my breakfast from earlier roiled in my stomach.

  Isolfr looked away from me. “I don’t know.”

  I sighed and leaned back, dropping my head against the side of the cart. I hated that starless sky. It was like looking straight into infinity.

  “Are you hurt?” I was changing the subject because if we were riding to our deaths, I’d rather not think about it.

  Isolfr shrugged. “I guess that’s one way of putting it.” He shifted against his ropes. “The magic they used to immobilize the dragons—it had the same effect as when you—” His voice trailed away, and I looked down at the floor of the cart, at the scatter of dried grass and dirt, and felt sick. We didn’t have the carriage and its shelves of ingredients to patch him up this time.