The Weight of Magic, page 4
part #1 of Restriction Series
They are hunters.
But then, what wolves weren’t hunters?
Torian tried to think of everything that he did know about shadow wolves, but panic about having the wolf right here in front of him made it difficult to think of anything.
“I’m just looking for respite from the rain,” he said.
The wolf didn’t move.
“If you don’t want me here, I can leave. Just… don’t attack.”
Torian didn’t know if the wolf even understood him, as he didn’t think so, but if there was even the slightest possibility that it did, he figured that he should say as much as possible.
The wolf surprised him by settling down to the ground but keeping its focus on Torian. The fading glow from his light left only the reflected light from the wolf’s eyes visible to him.
Torian let himself breathe out a sigh of relief.
“Were you by the temple earlier? There was a raven. People like to say ravens and shadow wolves are friends, though I’ve never seen a shadow wolf, so I can’t say if that’s true or not. I’m just… babbling,” he said, dropping his voice to a whisper as he shook his head. If his sister or any of the others were to see him now, he could easily imagine them taunting him about this. Not that they needed anything more to tease him about.
Another peal of thunder came, and he jerked his head around to look out into the storm. He hadn’t closed the door all the way, so the sounds of the storm were still quite loud. If he were to close the door entirely, he would trap himself inside the hut with the shadow wolf, which he had no interest in doing while all by himself. At least with the door open, he had the possibility of making a run for it if needed.
The wolf lowered its head to its paws, still watching him.
“Just lightning,” he said. “I don’t mind storms, but this one came on pretty suddenly. Then again, you probably know that.” He pressed his fingertips together and focused on that core of energy buried deep inside him while pushing upward to find a way to let that energy split as it arced up through him and then out.
It was heavy and tiring work to reach for that power. Torian didn’t have that much strength to begin with, so it didn’t take much for whatever strength he had to diminish. It took quite a bit of energy for him to even reach that core of elemental power, where it remained buried inside of him, up into a useful fashion. The light began to glow, building steadily until he could see the wolf more easily. Only then did he realize something else about the wolf that he hadn’t noticed before.
The wolf wasn’t moving much—probably because the wolf couldn’t move much.
The flashes of lightning revealed a long, dark stripe down the wolf’s head, but that wasn’t what caught Torian’s attention. Rather, it was an injury to the creature’s side.
“You’re hurt, aren’t you?”
The wolf didn’t look away from him. It didn’t make any movement toward him, either.
Torian glanced over his shoulder briefly before turning his attention back to the wolf. If this was what he thought it was, then he should get out of here. He didn’t want anything to do with a shadow wolf, injured or not.
As he looked at the wolf, he felt a pang of sympathy, though. “I don’t have much, but try this.” He reached into his pouch and tossed a hunk of bread along with the strips of dried meat that he had, leaving them next to the wolf. “I’d get you water, but it’s raining, and I think you can probably find a puddle.”
What was he doing talking to a wolf?
Despite the strangeness, it did seem to him that the wolf seemed to know what he was saying. That didn’t make any sense, but then again, nothing about what had happened since he ended up in this place made that much sense.
He stood for a moment, and the wolf sniffed at the bread, then the meat, snapping them both up in a quick movement. Far too quick to be all that seriously injured.
Torian walked back toward the door. Even injured, the wolf was a danger to him.
Maybe more because it’s injured.
He had a few options. Stay and wait for the wolf to decide that it wanted to attack in full, or he could head out into the storm and risk the weather. The worst of it had to be gone, didn’t it?
Then another peal of thunder came. It seemed as if it shook the ground.
Another flash of lightning followed. The wolf perked its ears, and its hackles raised. It began to whine softly. Now that Torian looked at it, it wasn’t nearly as large as he had thought at first. Maybe it was just the idea that he had encountered a wolf inside the hut. Or maybe it was seeing the raven. Whatever it was, he might be able to wait out the storm here.
The wolf got to its feet.
It bared its fangs.
That decided it for Torian. He wasn’t going to stick around and see what else it might do.
He ran.
When he reached the trees, Torian paused to look back, checking to see if the wolf followed, but it still stood inside the hut, sniffing at the air but not really watching him so much as it seemed to be looking past him and into the forest.
The rain had stopped sheeting down, and though it came with less intensity, it still stung Torian’s exposed arms and kept him shielding his face. Torian gradually backed away from the hut, keeping it in sight until he felt comfortable turning and jogging.
When he reached town, he was going to have a few words with his sister. She had abandoned him out in the storm like this and didn’t even seem concerned that he had gotten separated. All because she wanted to demonstrate her control over the constriction.
Torian squashed those thoughts. His sister was not to blame. It was his fault.
At one point, a strange howl split through the forest’s silence, echoing through the trees. Torian shivered. Everything on him was drenched, all the way to his underclothes, even his boots fully were saturated, but none of that made him nearly as uncomfortable as the sound that he had just heard.
He gradually moved his way back toward the main road running through the forest. With as fast as it had rained, he had to pick his way around soggy puddles, though they weren’t always obvious. Some areas of the forest had too many leaves, making it difficult to know when he was going to sink all the way up to his knee, as he did one time, or when he would simply step into a slight depression.
He reached the first of the farms on the outskirts. Most of the farms near the town grew vegetables, and this one was no different, with neat and tidy rows of beans, carrots, and radishes surrounded by a fence designed to keep some of the forest creatures out. Torian paused at the wall, glancing down at the runic markers that added to the wall, which prevented many of the critters from getting past, wishing he had even that much ability. If so, he would always be useful.
Lorent Polsot had a ladder leaned against his small cottage and climbed up it to look at his roof. As Torian approached, Lorent frowned before looking behind him.
“What are you doing out in the storm?”
“I got unlucky,” Torian said.
“Let me guess. You are with the others that came through right as the storm hit?”
At least that answered his question about whether they had reached town before the worst of the storm had come. “They get back safely?”
“I think so. Can’t say with any certainty. They ran past as the rain was getting heavy. You wouldn’t believe the wind. Wait. You might believe the wind.” Lorent started to laugh. “I wouldn’t want to be caught out in weather like that.”
“I went to the old Starug hut. Tried to get some protection there.”
Lorent nodded slowly. “Not a bad plan. Why didn’t you just stay?”
“I wasn’t the only one who decided to get out of the storm.”
“Really?”
“You’ve been around town for a few years,” Torian began.
Lorent climbed down the ladder and backed away from his home, looking up at the roof. He nodded to himself before finally turning his attention to Torian. “Is that some way of telling me that I’m old?”
“Not at all,” Torian said hurriedly, waving his hands defensively. Lorent was old, but Torian wasn’t going to say that about the man. He had to be in his late fifties, and his graying hair had finally started the thin, but he still managed to work his farm and had always seemed vigorous to Torian. “When was the last time that you saw a shadow wolf around here?”
Lorent pressed his lips together in a tight frown, his gaze flicking past Torian and out into the forest. “There hasn’t been a shadow wolf sighting around here… oh, in probably twenty years or more. Even then, I don’t know if any believed it when Riley claimed he was followed by one. He’d been out hunting mushrooms by the temple when he saw it, or so he claimed. And you know what those mushrooms do to a man.”
Torian chuckled. They were said to have medicinal properties, but that wasn’t the reason some people hunted them. “Riley Mildaln?” When Lorent nodded, Torian realized that wasn’t going to be of much help. Riley was the town quack—and would be the first person that Torian would accuse of making up a story for attention. “Do you think he might have seen one?”
“Ah, well, who’s to say? They’re said to be dangerous creatures, which was why they were hunted out of these lands. Can’t have livestock with shadow wolves around, you know. They’d be into my chicken coops before I could chase them away.”
Torian chuckled at the idea of Lorent chasing anything, let alone a shadow wolf.
“Anyway, chances are that was no shadow wolf. Weven wolves look plenty similar and are a bit more docile. Easier to chase away, too.” With that, Lorent snapped his fingers, creating a flash of light. It was more controlled than what Torian could make, and the brief burst lasted longer than anything he’d done. All with a single snap of his fingers.
Torian had never known how gifted Lorent was, but then on the outermost farm, he faced dangers that other farmers didn’t. The weven wolves were only one danger. Plenty of foxes and jurkin prowled up to the edge of the village hoping for scraps. They never attacked people—well, they rarely attacked people—but they didn’t have any qualms about going after livestock, especially things like Lorent’s chickens.
Seeing how quickly Lorent had created the flash of light, Torian realized that Lorent was plenty gifted. He wondered if he might be able to learn a thing or two from him.
“Maybe you’re right. I haven’t seen a weven wolf, either.”
“They aren’t anything to fear. Most consider them good luck, at least when traveling. Then again, as a farmer, I don’t consider any wolf good luck.” Lorent turned back to his ladder. “If you don’t mind, I need to finish checking my roof. The winds were rough, and I had too much rain dripping in during the heaviest part of it.”
Considering how hard it had rained, that wasn’t terribly surprising. Torian suspected that most people in town would have had some leaking. “You need any help?”
“I don’t know that I would be able to tell if it was the roof leaking or you.”
“I was just offering—”
“Oh, relax. I didn’t mean to get your goat. You should get back home. Get into some dry clothes. Sit by the fire. After you warm up, and if you’re still feeling charitable, you can scurry back out here and see if I have any work that needs to be done.”
Torian nodded. He didn’t really want to come back to help Lorent, but he knew how his parents would feel if he told them that he had offered and not followed through. He said his goodbyes and then trudged back toward town, the wind pushing him all the way.
As he neared the edge of town, he could have sworn that he heard another soft howl in the distance, and he quickened his pace just in case.
Chapter 5
COMES IN THREES
“It took you long enough,” Liana said as Torian pulled open the door to their cottage and stepped inside. He was still dripping. It had continued to drizzle for most of his walk into town, and that had prevented him from drying off.
“Thanks for waiting for me.”
“We were supposed to wait?” Liana lounged next to the fire, her feet propped on the small carved stump of wood that formed something of a table. She leaned back in a chair their father had carved himself. She had a steaming mug in hand and was staring at the fire. Every so often, she would flick her fingers, and a bit of pale white would glow along her fingertips.
“After what you did to me?”
“What did you do to him?”
Torian spun. He hadn’t seen his mother standing in the kitchen. Her hair was tied back, her face lined with what looked like irritation. It was an expression that he recognized all too well. And understood the reason why.
“It was nothing. Just a game,” Liana said, eyeing Torian as if to warn him not to say anything.
And he wouldn’t. She knew that about him.
“I just need to change,” he said.
“Yes. Why don’t you?” Torian’s mother turned away from him, and he heard the sound of her kneading dough on the counter. “Don’t just stand there and drip, Torian.”
He shot a look at his sister, who completely ignored him.
As he trudged back to his room, still dripping, he quickly peeled his shirt and pants off, and dropped them in a pile in the corner. He’d have to wring them out. Even then, they might still be drenched. If he were as skilled as his sister or as skilled as Jensen, he could have simply dried himself off while walking back. It was a measure of how little control over his own power he had that he had not even considered it.
He used a dry shirt to towel himself off and then discarded it on top of the others before getting dressed. He ran his hand through his hair, splattering more rainwater around his room, and then made his way back out and rejoined his mother in the kitchen.
“Your sister said that you got delayed?”
“That’s what she told you?” Torian resisted the urge to glower at his sister. Liana only shrugged.
“That’s what she told me, unless you have another reason?”
He decided not to push the issue, as it wouldn’t matter. His parents usually believed his sister over him.
She turned her attention back to kneading the dough, leaving him looking at her back. “Did you find anything interesting at the old temple?”
Torian shared a look with his sister, who only shrugged. His mother always asked about their lessons, though she didn’t have any real sahir potential of her own that he knew about. He was tempted to tell her about the wolf but decided against it. “Nothing more than the ruins. Willa likes to bring us out there to show us what our people once celebrated.”
“There’s much we can learn from the past. I haven’t been out there in a while.” Her voice grew distant, as it often did when she mentioned the temple. She’d once loved to visit, but after Leven had passed, she hadn’t spent much time there.
“I’d go with you if you want,” Torian offered.
She flashed an amused smile at him before working at the dough. When the smile faded, her face seemed almost troubled. “I might take you up on that.” She sighed. “Why don’t you see if your father needs help with anything?”
Hadn’t he just gotten back?
He shifted his shirt since it stuck to him—he hadn’t dried off nearly as well as he had needed to when he’d grabbed another shirt to wipe off with—and headed past his sister. The fire would be nice. As would a hot cup of cider, which was what he suspected Liana had. Instead, he would go back out into the drizzle and likely end up just as wet as he’d been before. At least his shoes were dry, even if he had to wear an old pair, and they were a bit snug.
Torian hadn’t needed to ask his mother where to find his father. He had a small workshop just off the main entrance to the house where he made his turnings. The sound of his father humming softly emanated from the cracked door, along with the familiar scent of sawdust and wood shavings.
Having seen Lorent checking on his roof, Torian hesitated a moment before heading in to see his father, looking up at the roof. There hadn’t seemed to be any leaks when he’d been in the cottage, but he hadn’t checked the entire place over. Rather than heading in to help his father right away, he took a moment to circle around the outside of the cottage. Torian didn’t see any signs of damage, but he took the time, anyway, until he circled back around to his father’s workshop and paused in the doorway.
He found his father bent over his workbench, a hunk of wood set into his lathe as he kept it spinning, gliding his chisel along the surface as a curling of wood peeled away. Torian watched for a little while, marveling at his father’s exacting method. He never had his father’s patience. If he did, he might have been better equipped to handle some of the difficulty that he had in using his connection to power.
After a little while, his father seemed to recognize that he was there and paused, the lovely lathe spinning down until his father rested the chisel down and looked over at him. “Yes?”
“Mother thought that you could use some help.”
His father turned his attention back to his work, getting the hunk of wood spinning again. “Is that right? I thought… I suppose it doesn’t matter.”
Torian breathed out a heavy sigh and turned away from his father, taking one of his father’s bowls from a nearby shelf and tracing his finger along the surface. His father was one of the finest craftsmen in town, and his work was highly prized. It was how he afforded to send both Liana and Torian to school.
“I was caught out in the storm,” Torian said.
“A nasty one,” his father said. “What were you doing to get caught in it?”
Torian debated how much to tell his father. He didn’t understand what they learned at school and never really cared for it. “We were studying some of the old markings.”
His father glanced over. “What is there to study in a place like that? I thought you all mostly stayed in that school.”
Torian knew how his father felt about their studies at the school. His irritation had only increased with Leven’s death. Were it not for their mother, Torian wasn’t sure either he or Liana would be permitted to spend any time there.
