To Cast the First Spell Read online

  “Play The Mountain Lion and the Hound,” Darby Jack requested, then smiled a toothless grin. By the pungent odor wafting in the air from his direction, he must have spent the previous week hunting and skinning. He certainly spent the last three marks of time requesting tunes and consuming large quantities of corn liquor. His tan buckskins were stained and damp. He scratched the gray whiskers under his chin and raised a tin cup.

  Terroll nodded acceptance of the request and placed his ebony fingers in position to begin. A bright light suddenly appeared, bathing everyone in blue. The peculiar illumination did not shine in through the windows; it penetrated the very walls as if nothing could block the glow. No shadows were cast by this light. He recognized the working of a spell and this was no minor toil, not by a long shot. This was a High Power spell being cast at a level only a skilled and powerful Accomplished could perform. He was impressed. Old memories came to the forefront of his mind, filtering up through the gray mists of forgetfulness. He remembered the day his potential had been discovered and also being trained as a Talented in Aakadon. More, the spells! His repertoire! Yes, every blessed Melody. He recalled spells forgotten long before the forget spell had been used on him. The blue light lasted long enough for a candle to burn a sixteenth of the way down and yet managed in that time to bring back his seventy-four years experience as an Accomplished of the Zephyr Guild.

  Where is the great spell caster? Terroll scanned the room while thinking of the Potential Melody, a spell that would cause anyone possessing the extra life force energy to glow. He looked at table three. Five people stared blankly as if in a state of shock. A woman wearing a gray wool dress sat with her mouth wide open. The light, only the eyes of an Aakacarn could see, did not emanate from her. A second woman with light brown curls hanging down her back, sat with a similar expression, eyebrows raised and near to touching the circlets of hair dangling on her forehead. Three men in light green-dyed buckskins were poised on the brink of jumping to their feet, just a soon as they figured out what for. Each one had a tight grip on the handle of his hunting knife but none of them was an Aakacarn.

  Terroll studied table four. Darby Jack was staring wildly around the room. He definitely was not responsible for casting the spell. At table one, sitting by himself, Orin Netless, the only other man in the room not wearing buckskins, shifted nervously in his chair. His red wool coat and gray breeches were wrinkled and frayed. He stood shorter than half the women and all of the men in the room, while possessing an attitude twice as surly.

  The proprietor busied himself in the corner by taking orders; quite a few people suddenly needed a drink. His buckskins were dyed white, well tailored and unstained. He seemed to be hard pressed for words, as though something needed to be said, anything to reassure his patrons they had no cause to be alarmed. Neither he nor Orin possessed the potential to cast a spell.

  “What was that?” Darby Jack shouted. He grabbed his longbow and sprang to his feet with surprising agility for a man of his years.

  “Got to be Aakacarn work,” Orin said. His brow wrinkled and his bushy white eyebrows twitched, giving him a sour expression. He scratched the bald spot on his head while his dark squinty eyes shifted from person to person. His gaze settled on the only stranger in the room. “You!” he shouted, pointing straight at Terroll.

  Terroll met the accusation with silence and his best bemused expression. He certainly was not afraid of these people, not since the High Power memory spell restored his knowledge. Even so, he felt it best to avoid trouble.

  “Hush now, Orin. You blame everything on the Aakacarns,” Henri Polkat said, He brushed a lock of gray hair back into place on his head and glanced at his wife, Lydia, then returned his attention to matters at hand. “Terroll has been here close to a week now. He’s been entertaining folk and not been the slightest lick of trouble. Don’t go around accusing people, it isn’t proper. Besides, if the man is an Accomplished, he certainly wouldn’t be here playing tunes for us.”

  Orin stomped around the room looking each person in the eye and ended his journey face to face with the proprietor. “You explain the light.”

  Henri raised his hands in a manner suggesting surrender. “I can’t. Listen to me, the harper had nothing to do with what happened.”

  Terroll watched the eyes of the Polkat’s occupants focus on him. The simple folk had not been convinced by the arguments made in his defense. The spell, Cushion of Air, played in his mind, causing a silver glow to emanate from his ebony flesh. The low level spell was well below the visual range of the non-Aakacarns. Any person foolish enough to attempt violence would be instantly enveloped in a cushion of air and be suspended above the floor. But the action would also confirm their suspicions. “I did not cast the spell,” he stated calmly.

  Orin smiled as if he had just caught a fox in the chicken coop. “You admit the blue light was an Aakacarn spell. Look everyone. He plays an instrument!”

  Terroll quietly bent over and placed the harp gently in its case. He turned and stood to his full six and a third cubits of height, which might have been more impressive if most of the other males in the room were not equally as tall. Most of the mountain dwellers were tall and muscular. Even the women were taller than most flatlanders. He had yet to see a single adult female on Tannakonna who could be described as petite. Normally just standing and facing down people intimidated them enough to dampen any urges leading to violence. Not even Orin seemed the least bit taken aback. Of course the man was ignorant and did not know a three bolt Accomplished from a Talented. The differences were considerable. “A goodly number of your friends and neighbors own guitarns and vyolins. And, unless you have been living in a stupor, my possessing a harp is public knowledge. You are correct about the spell being the work of an Aakacarn,” Terroll said in a firm voice that brooked no nonsense and then added, “I believe it came from outside and from the north.”

  A man who looked to be about the same age as Orin stood up holding a longbow like a battle trained veteran. He wore buckskin, red-dyed shirt and blue-dyed pants, like most every male on Tannakonna. Traces of gray streaked his hair and mustache. Laugh lines near his eyes showed him to be a jovial man but there was no trace of humor in his current expression. This was a man who could face down a charging bear and not flinch.

  Orin sniffed and turned to face the other old timer, the both of them were youngsters by Aakacarn standards. “Wait, Kemer, I’ll come with you,”

  The old mountaineer had courage. His bluster clearly was not a way to mask any inadequacies. The man was as tough as an old leather boot.

  Terroll froze in mid-thought as the affects of a second spell rippled through him in waves. He staggered. His reaction was more from being caught off guard than from the actual contact, which was not physical in nature. He had no doubt the spell originated from the same Accomplished. The power signature of each Aakacarn was unique. Individual colors could be similar but one would always be a shade darker or lighter, never the same. Judging by the space of time between each ripple, the second incantation had a great deal less force in it than the first one. The ripples from the first spell must have traveled quite a distance. How far? It was difficult to determine. He could not sense the magnitude of the ripples when he was under the influence of the first casting, but it must have been immense. The sensation from the second spell was too subtle for the commoners to feel.

  “Play The Mountain Lion and the Hound,” Darby Jack requested for the second time. He was seated again, his bow in easy reach and a cup in his hand.

  Terroll smiled. My audience calls. He unpacked the harp and sat back down in the intricately carved chair. How the innkeeper managed to afford the work of a master craftsman was a mystery. Surely, none of these mountain dwellers could do such work.

  He plucked the popular melody and sang in a deep baritone, second to the lowest of his five octave range. Inwardly, thoughts of the memory spell lingered in his mind. He had been given a second chance. His merriment gave new meaning to t
he song, adding more feeling to the whimsical ending.

  Darby Jack slapped his knee and laughed so hard he nearly fell out of his chair. The residents of Tannakonna were easy to please, more so, Terroll had to admit, than the stuffier nobles.

  Gerard DeCamp could not be allowed to get away with Silencing a person for challenging him, the thought looming large in Terroll’s mind. After all, a challenge was not supposed to be to the death or injury. His repertoire was back but the resentment he felt for the unjust punishment he endured was still intact. He wanted justice not revenge. Things were different now. His newly enhanced memory was the edge he needed. The Zephyr Guild would soon have a new leader and a return to more honorable pursuits. But these things would have to wait. There was the matter of payment. The caster of the memory spell would have to be compensated, honor demanded it. The Aakacarn deserved a gratuity for the service rendered. Terroll cast a low powered spell, binding himself on his standing as a three-bolt Accomplished to find the person who restored his knowledge and saved him from a premature death.

  Terroll continued to take requests even though most of the patrons had headed out the door behind Orin and Kemer. The men and women who remained seemed desperate to be entertained, no doubt to take their minds off what had happened and pretend the eerie glow never occurred. Three scruffy looking young men were singing along with the song and actually harmonized quite well. They all had talent but none of them glowed with potential.

  Todd Polkat entered the dining area and cleared the tables left unoccupied after Orin and Kemer exited with most of the men. Terroll estimated the young man to be about eighteen years old, certainly not over twenty. Todd’s black hair was straggly and probably had not encountered a comb or a brush since yesterday. His light blue-dyed buckskins were stained and smelled of food, drink, and cleaning solution. He worked as hard as the hired help, being Henri’s son had gained him no special privileges. He also had no light emanating from him.

  The door opened and in walked a young woman whose full figure and sway of hips were difficult to ignore. Her long tresses of black hair shimmered like silk as she passed by with a nod of greeting. The long knife strapped and sheathed to her waist would disabuse anyone who thought of her as a delicate flower. She and her twin sister, who was not in present company, wore pink-dyed buckskins. They seemed to be the only females on the mountain who did not wear dresses. Terroll nodded a polite greeting in her direction. He had become acquainted with only a small number of people during his stay in Bashierwood and Gina Terrance and her boyfriend were among them. She came in frequently, most often when Tim Dukane was working. He and Daniel Benhannon served tables and did much of the cleaning along with Todd Polkat. Gina seemed to take in the entire room in a glance. Her smile faded and she let out a sigh when it became apparent a certain person was not in the room. “Did you see the glow?” she asked. “It stopped just a stride from me. It’s mighty strange for a light to shine like that, sort of like a wall.” she added, shaking her head.

  “Yes, but the light didn’t stop, it passed right through us. It scared Darby sober.” Todd replied, while wiping the surface of table two. He turned with a smile and a sparkle in his eyes. The smile faded with one disapproving glance from his father. “Orin and the harper think its Aakacarn work,” he added in a hushed voice.

  Gina sniffed, apparently dismissing the possibility. She sat down at table one and glanced at the innkeeper. She had no interest in his son. She and Val had chosen their males. The fact was common knowledge, especially since the sisters spoke about it incessantly.

  “How far were you from here when you saw the light?” Terroll inquired, hoping the answer would give him a clue as to how powerful the spell had been.

  Gina looked at him as if she were hungry and had just spotted a dear. Her skill at hunting was reputed to be equal to that of most men. The intensity of her brown-eyed stare lightened and she pursed her lips thoughtfully. “About a span south,” she answered and then leaned back in the chair and put her feet on the table. Her rawhide boots were covered with dust.

  Tannakonna soles were made from extracting the saps of different trees and mixing them to form a durable yet flexible substance. The number of saps and the types of trees they came from was a secret the mountain dwellers held close. Terroll had no desire to steal their secret. Besides, his shoes were repaired by the local cobbler and he found them to be quite comfortable.

  Todd grimaced at the sight of dust on the freshly polished table. His irritation was lost on Gina who totally ignored him and fixed her gazed on Terroll. “Would you play The Squirrel and the Snail?” she asked.

  Terroll performed the requested song while observing his audience, simple backwoods people. The Polkat was without dispute the village social gathering place. The residents seemed to come in mostly for conversation and, when they could get it, professional entertainment. This was not to say that some of the mountain musicians were not good. Terroll thought of the young man who worked serving tables. Daniel could play the guitarn as good, if not better, than any Accomplished in Aakadon. Could he be a candidate? The possibility existed and would be explored in due time. For the moment, not a single person in the room emitted the slightest glow of potential. Terroll sighed inwardly, knowing the spell caster would show up eventually and the gratuity would be paid.

  “Yep, that glow was something else,” Darby Jack said and then downed yet another cup of corn liquor. He made his way to table one and sat down beside Gina. She sniffed and her boots hit the floor, creating a short distance from her and the smelly trapper. “The light passed right through the walls and didn’t even cast a shadow,” he continued, apparently not realizing he was socially unacceptable.

  It was not unusual for non-Aakacarns to see the glow of a High Power spell, which could be felt by every living creature in the vicinity of the caster. Terroll had no intention of explaining to the residents how much potential it would take for a spell to stretch over a single span. They did not need to know and the information would indict him on the spot. He decided to keep quiet, bide his time, and continue to take requests. Still, he wanted more than ever to meet the mysterious Aakacarn.

  “Gina doesn‘t want to be near your smelly carcass,” Henri said. He hurried over to the table, folded his arms, and stood while tapping his foot on the hard wood floor.

  Darby Jack stood up scowling and let out a huff, causing the innkeeper to shrink back slightly from the foul breath, and went back and grabbed his bow, “Hounds are better company than you, Henri,” he mumbled, then stomped out the front door.

  A young man brushed past the old trapper, nearly knocking him down. Tim Dukane apologized to Darby and then came to a sudden halt in front of the innkeeper. The young mountaineer stared at the floor and shifted his feet as if trying to decide what stance would best lighten the tongue lashing he knew was coming. His act of contrition was spoiled only by the quick smile he flashed in Gina’s direction. His straw hat barely contained the brown wavy hair hanging down to his red-dyed buckskin collar. He returned his attention to Henri and removed the hat.

  “What do you mean by running in here like that, slamming yourself into my customers?” Henri scolded, his brow creased in irritation. “This is not your poppa’s barn!”

  “Hi Tim,” Gina called out, smiling and batting her long lashes. Even the poorest of observers could not fail to see the deep affection passing between the youngsters. Terroll felt his own powers to be acute and was able to recognize the emotions when he saw them, but was above giving thought to such animalistic behavior. The very thought of any Aakacarn behaving like a brute beast disgusted him.

  Tim gave her a nod of regard, and then lowered his gaze toward the dull wood floor. His face flushed red when he seemed to realize the by play did not go unnoticed and that his attempt only seemed to make the innkeeper grow more irritated. “Sorry,” he said, looking Henri in the eye. An awkward silence hung in the air as the two stared at each other. Tim looked away first.

 
“Okay, now, what is the problem,” Henri said, while tapping an impatient rhythm with his right foot.

  “I was on Binkman’s cliff when a strange light suddenly surrounded me. I froze stock still, could hardly breath,” Tim said, perspiration formed on his brow as though recounting the experience was frightening him anew. “The light did something to my mind. I remember every detail of my life, even lying in a crib and staring up at the roof when I was so young I could hardly lift my head,” he added and swallowed hard. “I also remembered everything I ever heard about yetis and the Condemneds and the Aakacarns,” he went on, and then stopped, glancing around the room. He flushed redder than before, apparently realizing how foolish he must have sounded to everyone else after admitting he was running from childhood stories. The young man had no need to feel embarrassed; Terroll knew the stories to be true.

  “The glow was here too,” Gina said, and kicked the closest chair to her toward him. “Sit,” she insisted.

  Tim obeyed and sat down beside her. He stared at her like no one else in the world existed, much less occupied the same room.

  Terroll rolled his eyes upward. He just could not identify with the behavior. Aakacarns do not marry. The rule was thousands of years old and violating it was unthinkable, indecent.