The strong current did not bother Chlorr. It could no longer even
attempt to drag her into the further realms of Death. If she had had more
than an emotionless mask for a face, Chlorr would have been smiling. Her
plan had gone smoothly, with only one major problem. What to do with the
prisoners' bodies. However, that had been solved with several willing Dead,
and so far nothing worse had been brought up. At least, until there was an
agonized screech from one of the Shadow Hands. Chlorr whirled around. She
saw them run. She saw the Hands go after them. She saw them all disappear
into life. Her tiny moment of satisfaction had been completely obliterated.
Chlorr bellowed wildly with rage, her entirely inhuman voice echoing out
across Death. They would not escape. They would suffer.
The three Dead hands were startled enough to drop the icy corpses they carried as they suddenly burst into life. There was a blast of Charter magic, and then they were gone, tearing through the forest underbrush. It took a moment for the Hands to realize that their captives were getting away. Soon, however, they were chasing them, as more and more Dead streamed forth from Death.
Lirael knew that the Dead were gaining on them. She did not even have to look behind her to know this. Even so, there was still that slight possibility that they could make it to the river. She glanced quickly to both sides. Nick and Sam were still running. Perhaps they had a better chance than she had thought. That notion, however, was shattered when a sudden red glow blasted through the trees. All three of them swung their heads over their shoulders to see what it was. It was the light from blistering, intense flames. Free Magic.
Chlorr.
They raced away faster than they had ever gone before, the heat of the flames at their backs.
It was Nick who found the boat. They had been wading upstream in the river, with Nick slightly ahead. He couldn't believe their luck when he saw a dock with a perfectly good boat tied to it. He, Lirael and Sam splashed their way over, and then piled in. With a quick Charter spell they were off, skimming their way up the river that was slowly opening up into a lake.
Lirael looked up at the night sky. The stars were gleaming on the humid summer night.
"When do you suppose we'll be back?" she murmured. After their panicked escape, there was barely energy left to speak.
Nick was absentmindedly dragging his hand in the water.
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe in about two days, I'd guess. That's probably how long they had us for."
"And would have had us longer if it hadn't been for Sam," Lirael said, taking her attention off of the sky. "That was some very impressive Charter magic, you know."
Sam smiled and shrugged.
"You could say that. I'm just glad I didn't burn anyone when I used a flame spell to cut through the ropes. Nick, though, we do owe a lot to him. He's the one who kicked the Hand into the fire."
"What was Chlorr doing setting fires with Free magic in the first place?" asked Nick. "In Death, of all places. She was probably afraid we'd get cold, eh?"
Lirael tilted her head.
"You sound like you've lived in the Old Kingdom for all your life," she said, "And yet you had no knowledge of anything barely across the Wall until three years ago. You were pure Ancelstierrean. I find it amusing, especially since you've actually turned out to be a very talented Charter Mage."
Nick shook the extra droplets off of his wet hand.
"Am I a Charter Mage, though? A true one?" he said, more to himself than anything else. "There's Free Magic in whatever I do. And.and I suppose that's why I set so many bushes on fire when we were out practicing, Sam. But I would guess I'm sort of a hyper-powered Charter Mage. Even better if we were to fight Chlorr."
Sam sighed.
"You answered your own question once again, Nick. It will be beneficial to have you on our side if it ever comes down to combat with Chlorr and her little minions. But I think we're actually doing a good job of." he trailed off, his eyes fixed towards the receding shore line. Lirael and Nick followed his gaze. There was a giant mass of Dead on the bank. Arms of rotting flesh or jet- black nothingness reached out for them. Wild, unearthly moans carried across the river. And in the midst of the horde, Chlorr stood, her arms stretched to the sky, her head back. A high-pitched whistle passed from her brazen lips.
"What's she doing?" asked Nick, leaning over the prow.
No one answered him. Lirael and Sam were frozen, looking into the sky above the trees. There was a black, rippling swarm coming towards them.
"Oh." whispered Lirael.
"Please, no." pleaded Sam.
"Gore crows," said Nick in a very small voice. 'Gore crows."
The three Dead hands were startled enough to drop the icy corpses they carried as they suddenly burst into life. There was a blast of Charter magic, and then they were gone, tearing through the forest underbrush. It took a moment for the Hands to realize that their captives were getting away. Soon, however, they were chasing them, as more and more Dead streamed forth from Death.
Lirael knew that the Dead were gaining on them. She did not even have to look behind her to know this. Even so, there was still that slight possibility that they could make it to the river. She glanced quickly to both sides. Nick and Sam were still running. Perhaps they had a better chance than she had thought. That notion, however, was shattered when a sudden red glow blasted through the trees. All three of them swung their heads over their shoulders to see what it was. It was the light from blistering, intense flames. Free Magic.
Chlorr.
They raced away faster than they had ever gone before, the heat of the flames at their backs.
It was Nick who found the boat. They had been wading upstream in the river, with Nick slightly ahead. He couldn't believe their luck when he saw a dock with a perfectly good boat tied to it. He, Lirael and Sam splashed their way over, and then piled in. With a quick Charter spell they were off, skimming their way up the river that was slowly opening up into a lake.
Lirael looked up at the night sky. The stars were gleaming on the humid summer night.
"When do you suppose we'll be back?" she murmured. After their panicked escape, there was barely energy left to speak.
Nick was absentmindedly dragging his hand in the water.
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe in about two days, I'd guess. That's probably how long they had us for."
"And would have had us longer if it hadn't been for Sam," Lirael said, taking her attention off of the sky. "That was some very impressive Charter magic, you know."
Sam smiled and shrugged.
"You could say that. I'm just glad I didn't burn anyone when I used a flame spell to cut through the ropes. Nick, though, we do owe a lot to him. He's the one who kicked the Hand into the fire."
"What was Chlorr doing setting fires with Free magic in the first place?" asked Nick. "In Death, of all places. She was probably afraid we'd get cold, eh?"
Lirael tilted her head.
"You sound like you've lived in the Old Kingdom for all your life," she said, "And yet you had no knowledge of anything barely across the Wall until three years ago. You were pure Ancelstierrean. I find it amusing, especially since you've actually turned out to be a very talented Charter Mage."
Nick shook the extra droplets off of his wet hand.
"Am I a Charter Mage, though? A true one?" he said, more to himself than anything else. "There's Free Magic in whatever I do. And.and I suppose that's why I set so many bushes on fire when we were out practicing, Sam. But I would guess I'm sort of a hyper-powered Charter Mage. Even better if we were to fight Chlorr."
Sam sighed.
"You answered your own question once again, Nick. It will be beneficial to have you on our side if it ever comes down to combat with Chlorr and her little minions. But I think we're actually doing a good job of." he trailed off, his eyes fixed towards the receding shore line. Lirael and Nick followed his gaze. There was a giant mass of Dead on the bank. Arms of rotting flesh or jet- black nothingness reached out for them. Wild, unearthly moans carried across the river. And in the midst of the horde, Chlorr stood, her arms stretched to the sky, her head back. A high-pitched whistle passed from her brazen lips.
"What's she doing?" asked Nick, leaning over the prow.
No one answered him. Lirael and Sam were frozen, looking into the sky above the trees. There was a black, rippling swarm coming towards them.
"Oh." whispered Lirael.
"Please, no." pleaded Sam.
"Gore crows," said Nick in a very small voice. 'Gore crows."
