The Consuls of the Vicariate (37 page)

He began writing in his own spellbook.
In times of immediate danger, a sorcerer must be prepared for any possibility. Even when a mage finds himself trapped with no obvious means of egress, he must find a way out. Thus, I propose to study such a means by use of magic.

Below the entry, he drew three circles . Then, he scribbled a black dot in the center of each one, and gazed at them for some time. Connecting the dots with a line, he put his head in his hands and considered the shapes.

An idea jumped into his head, and Laedron flipped open the tomes and searched any similar or related spells. With four books laid out before him, he glanced at the pages, then began writing again.

First, the subject must be made incorporeal. The lack of physical substance would make escape far easier. Second, the location to which one escapes must be well known and familiar—and probably nearby. Third, travel between the points should be instantaneous
.

He stopped.
Instantaneous
.
Instant travel? From one place to another?

Using a logical flow, he combined words of power of similar spells until he had produced a formulaic representation of the effect he desired. He stood in the center of the room and presented his rod. He focused upon himself and concentrated on the spell, but then, he stopped.

“What in the hells am I doing?” he asked aloud. He had been about to cast a new and unproven spell on himself, with the possibilities unknown and potentially destructive.

Spotting an empty candlestick on his nightstand, he focused on it instead. The candlestick sparkled with energy as he chanted, then it disappeared and reappeared a few feet away, hovering in the air. It plummeted to the floor with the clank of silver against stone. He crouched and examined the candlestick. He found no noticeable differences in it.

He concentrated on the candlestick once more and repeated the spell, focusing on the great hall at the bottom of the stairs. With a flick of his wrist, the candlestick disappeared in a sparkle of white light. He quickly descended the stairs and found the candleholder a few feet from the spot he had tried to send it.

Now, to test it for distance
. He closed his eyes and pictured the common room of the former Shimmering Dawn headquarters. Casting the spell again, Laedron watched the glints of light on the silver until the candleholder vanished.

He took to the streets. After running for some time, he stopped in front of the old chapel. His heartbeat slowed, and he couldn’t feel the burn in his muscles. In fact, he felt well rested even though he had just finished a run across the city.
What other surprises shall I face from this rejuvenation spell?

Laedron entered the chapel and searched the common hall. The coals of the fireplace had grown cold without someone tending them, and the place seemed more deplorable without people and activity. He located the candlestick beneath the dining table and closely inspected it.

Finding the candlestick to be pristine, he sighed.
The moment of truth
. He knew that he had to cast the spell on himself, and it had to work to be useful for escape. After all, moving a candlestick across an entire city would give cheap thrills to a crowd, but the performance had little utilitarian value. He had to know if the spell could carry people across such distances.

He took a deep breath to steel his resolve and firmly grasped the scepter. Closing his eyes, he recited the incantation, waving his rod to and fro and imagining the great hall of the Shimmering Dawn across the city.
It must be somewhere I've seen before, somewhere I'm familiar with
. Though he didn't know if it would help, he tried to center his concentration on a spot above the ground. He would be more than a little upset if he appeared in the hall with half of his body in the stone floor or a wall. Once he was confident, he flicked his wrist.

The world was suddenly replaced by a torrent of swirling color, but he could see the buildings along the route flash as he passed. His entire body felt as though it was being yanked in ten different directions, and he thought his head might spin off at any moment. He caught a glimpse of the morning light before he vomited the contents of his stomach onto a beautiful rug, then his body heaved uncontrollably. Eventually, he lay on the floor, not even caring if his face was in the vomit, and he savored the cool stone against his cheek. The flashing colors still clouding his vision confused him and made it impossible to tell if he had arrived in the real world or somewhere else entirely, and he couldn’t recognize the walls or the floor.
Maker… where am I? What have I done?

« Table of Contents
← Chapter Twenty-Three
|
Chapter Twenty-Five →

Upon the Sea of Pillars

L
ae! What in the heavens are you doing?”

Laedron couldn't respond since his body was still busy convulsing and trying to expel food that was no longer there to expel.

Marac crouched next to him, putting a hand on Laedron's shoulder. “Lae, are you all right?”

“What was that?” Valyrie asked.

“I don't know,” Marac replied. “There was a flash of light, and he just… appeared.”

“Appeared?” Stepping over the vomit, Valyrie fell to her knees on the other side of Laedron. “Lae? Can you hear me?”

“I… made it.” When he heard his own voice, Laedron likened it to a handful of gravel being ground into power.

“Made it? What in the hells is that supposed to mean?” Marac, with Valyrie's help, rolled Laedron onto his back. “What have you done?”

“A new spell.”

“New spell? What kind of spell?”

Laedron turned his head and spat the foulness out of his mouth. Brice handed him a mug, and he took a swig. He used the first mouthful to rinse his mouth and spit, then he swallowed the next few.

“I call it 'instant escape.’”

Marac furrowed his brow. “Instant escape, eh? Looks more like ‘instant regurgitation.’”

After taking another sip from the cup, Laedron felt his belly rumble, then he vomited again, doing his best to avoid hitting Valyrie or Marac. Afterward, he lay flat on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. “Looks like I've overdone it this time.”

“That's an understatement,” Marac said, reaching to lift him.

“No, no.” Laedron waved his hand and wriggled away from Marac. “Not yet. Can't get up.”

“Well, I hope you're pleased with yourself, Lae.” Marac folded his arms and stood. “We're supposed to be leaving today, and you go and do something like this?”

“He's been restless,” Valyrie said. “Completely unable to sleep. We can't fault him for trying to find something constructive to do with his time. Oh, Lae, I should’ve stayed with you.”

Perhaps she hasn’t grown cold to me
.

Brice shook his head. “Yes, he's found a new way to summon up two days' worth of meals and decorate the floors with them.”

“This is no time for jokes.” Laedron turned onto his side in anticipation of more heaving, but the dizzy feeling was beginning to subside. “Oh, my head!”

“Do you think you'll be fit to travel by midday?” Marac asked.

Laedron started to nod, but thought better of moving his head again. “I hope so.”

After lying on the floor for several minutes, he pressed his palms to the floor and raised himself to his knees. The dizziness had subsided, and he was left with a light-headed sensation. “Such is the way with progress. I’ll have to adjust the spell.”

“You intend on trying this again?” Marac threw up his hands. “What if you suffer the same effects? Or worse?”

“I’m a sorcerer, Marac. This is the sort of thing sorcerers do.”

“I can’t see how anyone could find this attractive,” Marac replied, glancing at the pool of vomit.

“We study magic and learn its secrets. The spells that I can perform now had to be learned and studied, and I cannot accept that what exists now is the only possibility. New magic remains uncovered, just as I’ve demonstrated.”

Marac sighed. “Would you at least tell someone before you attempt something like this again?”

Looking at Marac, Laedron felt some measure of guilt for having performed the spell without telling them.
But they were asleep
.
I didn’t want to disturb anyone
. He nodded, accepting the fact that his friends deserved to know his intentions. “Very well. I promise.”