Michael Foster - She Who Has No Name

Goodfellow formed a cradle with his hands and began to fill the space between them with power. He began slowly, letting it build up from a trickle while he came to terms with its foundations, then he let more and more energy fill the space, as fast as he could manage. A banging sounded at the door, followed by a solid thumping and the barricade began to shudder. The stone around the door jumped and mortar cracked.

‘They are coming,’ Eric said, eyeing the cluttered doorway, but Goodfellow only hushed him with an urgent look.

The spell was growing and Samuel now set about crafting a barrier to hold the spell within. He called to the ring and seized hold of the power that came stampeding out of it. Luckily, in summoning a shield, the more power the better and Samuel locked his attention onto Goodfellow’s spell, and his spell shuddered to life around it-a tremendous barrier of solid energy. It held Goodfellow’s magic in place firmly and the bespectacled magician nodded at the result and then continued to pour his magic inside as quickly as he could.

‘Eric!’ Goodfellow called, now sweating and it was Eric’s turn to assist, for the spell was now growing chaotic, churning and struggling inside its prison.

‘Reduce the shield,’ Goodfellow said and Samuel did so, squeezing the energy into a tighter space. The magic within began screeching and squawking as it struggled against him.

The spell was sparking and fitting wildly, but Goodfellow continued to intensify it, folding it upon itself again and again, reducing it down and building it in intensity each time.

‘It’s getting hot, Samuel,’ Goodfellow stated and Samuel altered his shield, suddenly cutting off the rising heat that had been building inside. The power of the ring had begun burning through him and his bones began to resonate with its power. The nerves in his teeth began to feel as if they were lanced with fire.

‘Is it enough?’ Eric asked with concern, as a bench shuddered and fell away from the doorway.

Goodfellow only shook his head. ‘I think we need much more.’

Eric then began to pour his own power into the spell. Great volumes of energy spilled forth from the man and joined with Goodfellow’s.

‘Save enough to get us free!’ Samuel hissed to him. The two Erics were both potent magicians and when this magic was released, even if it did not damage the citadel, it would certainly not be good for anyone still in the room.

Eric was not concerned. ‘Don’t worry. I can get us out of here in a heartbeat.’ And he continued adding his magic into the pool.

The spell in Goodfellow’s hand now contained a terrible intensity of power, similar in magnitude to the Great Spell that had originally transformed the Argum Stone from rock to ring. As if on cue, thunder called from outside the tower, for it was the way of nature to become unsettled when such unnatural amounts of magic were gathered or expended.

Goodfellow began shaking with exertion and his hands were trembling from the effort. ‘I don’t know how long I can keep this up.’ He looked at Eric. ‘It’s nearly time. Start the Journey spell before I lose control.’

Eric stood back and took a few deep breaths. He had used a lot of power, but he seemed to have a great deal left. Again the door behind them boomed and shook as the Paatin rammed into it with something massive.

‘They will be in here any moment, so we need to leave, Eric,’ Samuel said with concern, gritting his teeth with effort. ‘And I don’t know how long I can keep up these shields.’

‘What will happen when it does release?’ Eric asked. ‘What kind of spell is it?’

‘It’s no kind of spell, only undirected magic-raw potential. It will be energy ripping in all directions-heat and light, force and wind. It will be utter destruction to anything it touches. If it is powerful enough, it will tear the ether and the citadel will be destroyed,for sure. At least, that’s our theory.’

A ripple of lightning flashed from outside and the pain continued through Samuel until he, too, was shaking from the effort.

Eric began work on his Journey spell, hastily crafting it from memory and instinct. It began to build around him like an orb of intricate design, etched in countless tiny traces and lines of magic. ‘It’s ready,’ he said after only a few moments, locking the spell into place.

Samuel was relieved, for he did not think he could maintain himself any longer. He only wished he was not struggling so much, for he had missed the chance to memorise the missing pieces of the Journey spell for himself.

‘It’s all right, Samuel,’ Goodfellow told him. ‘You don’t need to hold the spell any longer. We only need it to last another few moments. Once I release it, there will be nothing stopping it anyway.’

‘Are you sure?’ Samuel asked and he could hear the desperation in his own voice.

Goodfellow nodded. ‘Are you really sure?’ he asked again.

‘Yes!’ Goodfellow declared. ‘Now stop it before you kill yourself.’

That was enough for Samuel, and he pushed his power back into the Argum Stone and ripped the thing from his finger. At once, he felt cool relief, stumbling away from the others and flapping his hands to cool them. He dropped the ring back into his pocket where Eric could not see.

It was then that Goodfellow gave them the grave news. ‘Unfortunately, we’ve made a small oversight. I’m afraid you will have to leave without me.’

‘What’s that?’ Samuel asked him.

‘If I stop for even a moment, the spell will release. It is only my adding to the spell that is keeping it stable. Your shield is not enough. I can’t leave or it will kill us all.’

‘Nonsense,’ Eric told him. ‘I can Journey us away the moment we are ready.’

Goodfellow only shook his head. The incandescent spell between his hands reflected in his eyeglasses like unholy firelight. His fingers were glowing red, with the shadows of his bones visible at their middle. ‘That won’t be quick enough. I’m sorry, Eric. I didn’t realise it would be like this.’

‘Then I can bring the spell to you. We will all Journey away and leave the spell behind.’

‘How will you separate me from the spell?’ Goodfellow asked. ‘I’m holding onto it. You would have to cut my hands off.’

Eric and Samuel looked at each other with dread.

‘Then that’s how it will have to be,’ Samuel said

‘Oh, no,’ Goodfellow retorted. ‘I hate to say it, but if you even bring your Journey spell near to me, it will destroy us. This spell is much too unstable. It will draw in your magic and then we would all be dead.’

‘I’m afraid he’s right,’ Samuel said after a moment’s careful thought. ‘That spell is chaotic. Anything could happen.’

‘We can burn it off, Samuel! Cast it out the window!’ Eric yelled, for the hellish noise of Goodfellow’s spell was becoming louder, a constant flurry of crackling and squealing as it struggled to be free.

‘We would need something enormous to use that much power. What do we have? Even attempting something like that now could be disastrous. Trying to tap the spell as it is could set it off.’

Eric now had tears streaming down his cheeks. ‘No, Samuel,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘We can’t leave him!’

There seemed to be no alternative. Even if the room werequiet and he had time, it would be difficult to think of some way to defuse the nightmarish power they had summoned. Samuel could only shake his head. They had made a dreadful error in judgement.

‘Go!’ Goodfellow yelled. ‘Go now! Go!’ He was shaking feverishly to contain the spell.

‘Eric!’ Samuel roared out, shaking his friend by the shoulders. ‘We have no choice. We have to leave-now!’ He was within the bounds of the Journey spell. All Eric had to do was release it and they would both be away from the room-away from Goodfellow, Ghant and its immediate destruction.