Page 44 of Homeward for a Spell

But the soldier isn’t cowed. He lifts his chin, defiant. “You both made it my business. Could see you two clear as day, with the lamp lit and all.”

“You watched?”

“Always loved a shadow play, haven’t I? ’Sides, not much else to do in Briarwall after dark.” With a final smirk, he heads for the barracks, and Sage considers plunging back into the tent for her bow; she bets she could put an arrow in him before he has the chance to rouse the rest of the camp.

But satisfying as that would be, it wouldn’t solve her problem. They’ve made it to the precipice of the Northlands, just a day or two’s hard ride from the Swallow, and Sage has gone and lost their spellcaster at the critical moment.

Quite a leader she’s turned out to be.

16

Araphi

Araphi would very much like to be back in the tent in Briarwall, her body curled around Sage’s, the little stove pumping out heat, the mammoth-skin blanket beneath them as they revisited what they did last night. Or they could still be sleeping. Or really doing any number of things that are warm and cozy, rather than struggling over yet another rocky, snow-crusted ridge in the hopes that the gods-be-cursed Swallow will somehow be waiting for them on the other side.

But no. Despite the extremely active night she and Sage had, the ranger was up and storming about the encampment by the time Araphi woke, a bundle of energy and nerves. Now, hours past midday, they’re on horseback, deep in the Graywood. It’s been snowing all day, and fog hangs low over the ground. Massive pines spear the sky, dense as soldiers in a parade. It’s colder than Araphi ever thought possible, and an icy wind shears right through the layers she’s thrown on. And with Tea’s disappearance in the night, Araphi is the only true spellcaster left in the party. Which means, as Sage and Remy told her when they filled the remains of their party in on their mission upon leaving Briarwall, she’s the only one capable of pulling the dragon’s tooth from the Swallow. “I have complete trust in Phi,” Sage said.

Araphi wasn’t so sure, and still isn’t.

“We just need you to perform the summoning spell to retrieve the artifact,” the ranger insisted a bit too brightly, perhaps trying to convince herself as well as Araphi.

At least they still had the spellscroll, generously left behind by Tea, with her intricate notes about pronunciation and inflection in the margins. In theory, a caster should be able to use it whether they understood it perfectly or not—sort of like sight-reading sheet music.

But Remy had scowled, not bothering to hide his disbelief. “While I appreciate Phi’s ability to charm a crowd, she’s a bard, not an academy-trained wizard. I doubt she’ll be able to match the extremely complicated summoning spell Tea was planning in order to fetch the extremely magical item from the bottom of an extremely dangerous river.”

Bramble put a bracing hand on Araphi’s shoulders as they slumped. “I’m with Sage,” Bramble said. “Phi’s proven herself again and again. She can do the summoning spell.”

They’d all turned to Nura, who’d shrugged. “One magic user is as good as the next to me. And, seeing as Phi is the spellcaster we have, what other choice is there?”

“That’s settled, then,” Sage had said. “Phi will bring up the item, no problem at all.”

No problem at all, except bard magic is meant for charming crowds, easing burdens, and casting favorable enchantments over a place. Araphi’s never even heard a summoning spell performed. What is she supposed to do if it doesn’t work, and she can’t bring the tooth up out of the river? What is the party supposed to do then?

Worry churns sour in her stomach at the thought of failing the party. Perhaps they’ll find another spellcaster…

But that’s slightly less than likely up here in the vast frozen forests of the north.

Araphi grips her lemon charm, hoping its scent will calm her. Let them get to the Swallow first. Then she can stew over whether her magic is sufficient to the task of fetching the tooth.

You could call upon me, whispers an insidious voice in her head. Clauneck, her family’s demonic patron, who has been quiet since they left Kingfisher, is suddenly inside Araphi’s head, almost as if he can sense her self-doubt, her weakness, her insecurity in the face of the prospect of using bard magic to retrieve the dragon’s tooth. You could beg me for the help we both know you need.

“Shut up,” Araphi snarls. “You weren’t going to talk to me again until I called, remember?” She doesn’t need Clauneck or her family’s magic. Not now. Not ever.

Don’t flatter yourself that I want to speak to you. I’ve far bigger problems to deal with than a spoiled little girl who’s in over her head. The war between myself and my enemies on my plane is all-consuming, but you were worrying so loudly, I needed to deal with the distraction.

“I’ll be fine,” Araphi grinds out. “If I need you, I’ll call on you. Not before then.”

Where are you? Clauneck demands after a beat. I sense snow and trees. No one else in the family seems to be bothered about you, but that could change if I let them know what you’ve been up to.

Araphi’s heart pounds against her ribs. If Clauneck tells her parents or, gods forbid, her aunt and uncle, that she’s in the wild Northlands, it’s all over. But he can’t read her mind, she knows that at least. He knows only what she tells him and whatever he might be able to sense through her shallowest thoughts. At least, that’s what Araphi’s mother has always assured her.

“It’s no business of theirs where I am.” She makes her voice as frosty as the air. “I’ll be back in due time. Better my parents don’t make a fuss, don’t you think? The family wouldn’t want another scandal so soon.”

Clauneck sighs irritably in her head. Suit yourself, you tiresome creature. Just don’t get yourself killed on this little galavant of yours. The family does need an heir, after all, and none of your siblings are old enough to take over upon your violent death.

“I’m not dying, violently or otherwise. Now, go away.” She begins to hum a song at that, and there’s a popping sound in her ears. Clauneck vanishes, like a cloud chased away by the wind.

What he’s up to on his own plane and exactly which enemies he’s battling, she’s not sure, but she’s grateful again for the lack of his presence.