He used his magic to levitate Nycoll and Mansel away from the dock. He withdrew from the water’s edge and the bombardment of heavy spears ceased. He was breathing hard when he finally settled by the large oak tree where their horses were tied. Mansel was unconscious, his leg bleeding heavily. Zollin pulled the trident free and then put both his hands on his friend’s leg, using pressure to slow the bleeding.
“I hate the ocean,” Zollin said from between clenched teeth.
He let his magic flow out toward the shore, being careful not to touch the water. It seemed he wasn’t welcome in the ocean. Luckily, there was nothing near the shore-no sign that the strange looking mermen wanted to continue the confrontation.
Zollin turned his attention back to Mansel, letting his magic flow into his friend’s leg. The bone was broken and a large blood vessel severed. He repaired the damaged blood vessel first and then mended the torn flesh to stop the bleeding. Mansel’s leg looked fine, but the bone was still broken. It took Zollin several minutes to locate all the tiny shards of bone and mend everything back together. When he was finished, Mansel seemed to be resting easy, so Zollin felt he could get up and prepare their shelter. But when he stood up the world seemed to spin and tilt off balance. He staggered, closing his eyes and holding tightly to the tree until the wave of dizziness passed. Then he got some food out of his pack and began to eat. All the symptoms from lack of sleep returned with a vengeance. It was all Zollin could do to lay out blankets and levitate Mansel and Nycoll onto them. The big oak gave them ample shade, and once he had everything unpacked and near to hand, he rolled himself in his cloak and fell asleep.
When he woke up it was dark out. He kindled a small flame in the palm of his hands. Nycoll was looking at him and sipping water from a canteen.
“You’re awake,” Zollin said.
She nodded, but didn’t speak. Mansel was still asleep. Zollin made a mental note that the weed he had found to give them stamina didn’t take away the need to rest, it merely postponed it. Zollin was still exhausted, but he got up, started a fire nearby, and checked on the horses. He didn’t expect Eustice to catch up until the next afternoon at the earliest. He was thankful the mermen hadn’t continued their attack. He and Mansel would have been easy prey sound asleep only a few hundred yards from the shore, but the sea creatures didn’t reappear. They seemed drawn to his magic only when it entered the water.
The horses were tired as well, not even nibbling the grass around them yet. Zollin unsaddled the horses and rubbed them down. Then he returned to the fire with more food. He didn’t know about the others, but he was famished. He ate a loaf of bread and wished he had more of the smoked cheese from Luxing City, but they had eaten the last of it days before. There was dried meat and a few old vegetables, but Zollin didn’t have the energy to cook anything.
“Are you hungry?” he whispered to Nycoll.
She nodded again and he handed her a loaf of bread.
“Sorry I don’t have something better than stale bread.”
“It’s fine,” she said quietly.
They ate in silence. Zollin tried not to let Nycoll’s staring bother him. It wasn’t even that she was looking at him-it was that she didn’t seem to trust him. She watched him like someone might watch a mischievous child. After he ate, he went to sleep. He knew that it would have been wise to stand a watch, but he was just too exhausted.
The next morning he felt better. He woke up when he heard Mansel moan. Nycoll helped the big warrior get a drink of water and sit up.
“I feel like I drank an entire cask of ale,” he said.
“It’s just fatigue,” Zollin said. “Eat something and get some more rest and you’ll be fine.”
“Nycoll, how are you feeling?”
“I’ll be fine,” she said softly. “You should eat.”
“I could eat a horse,” Mansel said.
The horses neighed and Zollin laughed.
“I think they heard you,” he teased.
They ate and napped through the day. Eustice didn’t arrive by nightfall, and Zollin didn’t think the mute servant would continue traveling after dark. He let Mansel and Nycoll have some privacy while he took first watch. He walked out into the darkness away from their fire and let his eyes adjust. Then he let his magic flow out around him, but was careful not to let it go near the shoreline. The last thing he wanted was some other sea creature rising up and attacking them in the dark.
There were small creatures all around-field mice, small birds, bats, and insects. There were even a few snakes, but none were close to Zollin or his friends. The night was quiet and Zollin allowed his mind to wander as he stared out into the darkness. He thought of Brianna, his heart aching as it always did. He wished more than ever that he could have had more time with her, or maybe just seen her once more. He would tell her how much he loved her, and then just hold her for as long as he possibly could. He thought of his father and wondered if Quinn had found happiness in Felson with Miriam, the animal healer. Miriam was a strong-willed woman, compassionate but unyielding in her personal beliefs. Zollin though she would make a good match with his father, but he found it hard to imagine Quinn being romantic with a woman. His father had never shown any interest in women in all the years they had lived in Tranaugh Shire, but a lot had changed since they had fled from the small village to escape the wizards of the Torr.
Thinking of the Torr gave Zollin a strong sense of dread. He knew that a hard fight lay ahead, and even if he won there was no guarantee the fighting would stop. If King Belphan was really dead, the Five Kingdoms could be thrown into a war that could last for decades. It made Zollin almost sick to think that he was the cause. He knew intellectually that he wasn’t to blame, that he hadn’t made the decisions to hurt and kill others, to send armies across the Five Kingdoms, but his emotions made the case that if he had just gone with the wizards of the Torr, none of the atrocities of the past year would have happened. Then again, thinking of Eustice, who had been a servant of the Torr for years, made him sick as well. Eustice, who had been taken into Offendorl’s service as a child, castrated, and then had his tongue cut out, was a living example of the Master of the Torr’s cruelty. Zollin knew he could never serve someone so twisted and evil. Going to the Torr would have been a death sentence, or worse-a life of torturous enslavement.
Zollin watched the moon as it slowly moved across the sky. The days in Falxis were hot, but the nights were cool and so Zollin let his magic burn brightly, filling him with a supernatural warmth. He let the magic flow out in a sort of blanket awareness. He wasn’t sure exactly how long he stayed that way, his magic burning like a bonfire, sensing everything around him in every direction simultaneously but losing himself completely in the process. He might have stayed in the blissful state of magical awareness through the night if he hadn’t sensed the dark, angry presence that flew by overhead.
At first Zollin was shocked by the discovery. He let his magic flow up as well as out around him. He had felt the nocturnal avian creatures passing by overhead. Insects buzzed about, flicking from one spot to the next. Bats dove and fluttered, their wings flapping almost clumsily but drawn to any small movement. Occasionally, owls flew past or swooped down on an unsuspecting creature moving slowly through the tall grass that grew among the sandy dunes this close to the shore. But the angry beast was flying higher than the other night animals. It was large and surprisingly familiar. Bartoom, Zollin realized. He retracted his magic, feeling as if he had just come up for air after a long underwater dive. He sucked in great lungful’s of air as he hurried back to the small camp where Mansel and Nycoll waited.