Wylde Magic | Book 3

Fifty Six: Death in the Marshes

Spaulder flew high over the Wyldes, ducking in and out between the clouds as we rushed to the marshlands.

My stomach sank with anxiety the more we flew to the possible conflict. Would Bara Khalja be there? In an ancient battlefield, what dark magics could he reach out to? The horror of what he did in the valley in the battle where he nearly decimated the Autumn court still haunted me, and I couldn't imagine what else he was capable of.

I grabbed my tunic over the pendant from Thain, holding tight to the stone through the fabric. Whatever we found here, whatever I had to do to protect my loved ones, I would do it. Even if that meant trying to drain more of Bara Khalja's horrors of their life magic. Even if whatever ill effects I had before were amplified tenfold.

Bryn was enough, I would not lose more today.

'Mm. We approach.' Spaulder's words sounded in my head and I peered below. The clouds thinned and from what I could see we were indeed over a brown and dreary marsh. 

'What can you sense?' Schula asked.

Spaulder was silent as he flew on. He dipped a bit lower, not quite breaking the cloud line but coming close as the tips of his long black wings scattered thin trails as we went.

Unease shuttered through me as I felt the shudder of the Wyldes below. Something was off, very off.

'There are powerful things here,' Spaulder said. 'And shades of long ago death.'

My face was strained as I peered down into what I could see below. It seemed so still, the waters and grasses of the silent marsh went undisturbed even by the breath of wind in the unclaimed Wyldes. Whatever lay beneath the glassy surface that Spaulder could feel, would Bara Khalja be able to sense it too? Or perhaps he was already down there somewhere.

It didn't matter. We were supposed to be here to observe, but if something happened we may have to intervene anyway.

I looked down at my open palm, bringing forward a small flicker of fire. First orange, the color of the element itself. Then I let the orange die in my hand as I called forth a purple flame. I stared at the flame licking my hand. I had combined them before. We fought Bara Khalja and I had them entwined without even really knowing it until after it had happened.

I stared at my palm, willing the orange flames to come forth and combine once again. It didn't work. The purple went out as the orange surfaced. I tried again, only to go back to purple.

With a sigh I dropped my hand. There was no other way, I would have to try to take the life magic out of Bara Khalja or whatever monstrosities he animated with it.

I could only pray I would be enough.

'What are you doing?' Schula asked.

I smiled weakly, shaking my head. 'Just anxious.'

She stared at me for a long moment. Her tattered red clothes no better than my own at this point. Tired, stressed, I saw Schula for what she was. With all the love I had for her in my heart, it ached to see her in this state. What her childhood was like, what she had endured to find peace in Thanantholl, and now she was caught in a war that partially blamed her for no reason beyond her birth. The sad expression on her face was reflected back at her from my own eyes.

This would end, I would make sure of it, and I would find hippieness for my triquetram.

'There, below,' Spaulder said.

Schula and I both turned our attention below as Spaulder lowered our altitude.

The marshlands would be a miserable place to cross on foot, but there was an entire army struggling to do so. I looked down in horror at the procession wading through thigh-deep water, only to climb out into the grasses for a brief reprieve before wading through the water again. Stretching for so very far into the distance.