The Currents of Magic

Chapter Fifty

And then there were the bodies. Some were strewn in the middle of the road, butchered and mangled, while others were hidden behind makeshift defenses, slumping and dead. Meyer averted his eyes, but the faces of the fallen swam before him like silent beggars. He recognized Master Tarkin and Master Kelton, his instructors from Martial Training, and Arthur Benson, the father of Mason. With each familiar face, Meyer felt his muscles tensing, but still he moved onward, closer to the center of town...

But as he reached Quarry Road, a ragged voice split the air. It was low and desperate, and hardly louder than a whisper. "Meyer... Meyer..."

No sooner had Meyer turned then he sunk to his knees, eyes gazing forward.

Leo Brant was on the ground, leaning against a charred building wall. His face was bloodied, and long gashes ran along his thick arms. He was clutching his stomach with one hand, even as he used the other in attempt to straighten his body.

Meyer tried to speak, but his voice did not produce sound. He tried to move, but his muscles did not respond. He felt the gravelly earth digging into his skin as he stared at his father, less than two feet away from him.

"They're looking for you," said his father, grimacing as he spoke.

"I... I know," said Meyer. "The message you sent me..."

But Leo Brant shook his head. "They know you're here."

"I don't care," said Meyer. "Let me help you—Erasefenta—"

Leo Brant's fist struck Meyer across the face before he could finish the spell. Even in his weakened state, the blow knocked Meyer backwards.

"No magic," said Leo Brant, and before Meyer could cower or retreat, his father grabbed his wrist in an iron grasp.

Meyer didn't resist, but his jaw trembled as his father increased the pressure on his hand. Meyer wished his wrist would crack. He wanted to show his father he didn't care about the pain. He would take the war hammer lying next to them and crush his hand himself—

"Listen to me," said his father.

Meyer hesitated.

His father jerked his hand. "Listen to me, son."

Tears streamed down Meyer's face, but he forced himself to look up. His father's eyes were dim, but his expression was fierce.

"Your mother―Odessa―was worth more than life to me," said Leo. "You killed her... magic killed her... It should have been me, but―"

Suddenly there was a sound of boots scraping against stone, and for a moment the light of life flickered in Leo Brant's eyes. "Take this," he said, shoving a small ring into Meyer's hand with the bloodied arm with which he had been supporting himself. "And run!"

But even his father released his grip, Meyer did not move other than to straighten his body. He heard shouts and cries, the voices near enough to easily discern, but he paid no attention to the words.

"RUN!" bellowed his father, hitting him across the face.

Meyer stood up, lifting a nearby sword from the hands of a dead body. He could hear his father yelling at him, but he didn't care. He would finally prove that he was a warrior. That he was more than just Odessa's son. He would probably die, but at least he would die being worth something... To someone...

He turned to face to the oncoming attackers, but then his father's massive bulk pushed him out of the way, and suddenly Leo Brant had met the attackers head on, swinging a two-handed great sword with one hand. The first Raiders were struck down, but more were coming. There were already three more engaged with his father, and more were appearing at the end of the street.