2. Leytouched #2
Felix turned his head to see who was speaking. It was one of the mages, a man in red robes. He was standing in the doorway to the ballroom, clasping a short rod. It emitted an odd glow, which formed a shield-like shape in front of him as he barked his order again.
“Do it!”
Felix glanced back at the woman. Her panicked eyes darted between him and the mage, then fell on the axe in his hands. She recoiled, her voice a hoarse whisper.
“Please don’t…”
The lights swirled once more as she backed away .
Damn it. How to deal with explosive magical ladies had not been part of the guard instruction protocol for the night. But he was not about to murder some terrified girl in cold blood. Even if she glowed with wild, erratic magic.
“No,” he snapped over his shoulder. “Aren’t you a mage? Help her!”
He turned back to face the woman, then lowered his axe, inwardly cursing himself because he absolutely did not know what he was doing.
“I won’t hurt you. Look.” He let the axe drop the last few inches to the ground. The clattering of metal on stone made her flinch, but she was no longer backing away from him. He held his arms out at his sides and lowered into a slight crouch.
“You fool! She’ll kill us all!” the mage shouted.
The woman took a trembling breath, her voice a whisper. “I don’t know what’s happening to me,” she breathed. Silent tears streaked her face, glistening in the faint light emanating from her skin.
Felix looked around, and his eyes fell on the cracked ground behind her, where brilliant blue tendrils of light continued to spill out, like smoke from a chimney.
“Get away from there,” he said as calmly as he could. “The light. Step away from it.” He extended a hand toward her.
She stared at it, then back at his face. “I don’t want to hurt you,” she said in a small voice.
“You won’t,” he assured her with a confidence he didn’t quite feel. Still, if she blasted him into oblivion, it would hopefully be quick.
The woman closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and stepped forward. The swirling light flared, but didn’t lash out. She took another step.
“There you go,” Felix said, still holding out his hand.
“Isolde!”
The woman’s head jerked toward the unknown voice.
A stately man Felix recognised as Lord Trevalyan burst through the doors, followed by the tall mage in green who had led the ritual.
Trevalyan saw the cracked ley line and the unfolding scene, and stared at the young lady in horror.
“Isolde!” he repeated. Turning to the mage, he sputtered, “What is the meaning of this?! Do something! Help my daughter! ”
Felix’s eyes widened. Trevalyan’s daughter ? That sure added an extra layer to this already spectacular mess. The Trevalyans were rich as sin, and Lord Trevalyan himself was known as a ruthless businessman and politician who wielded more influence in Azuill than the entire city council combined.
The mage in green made a sound that was somewhere between a scoff and a grunt. He spoke in a voice so matter-of-fact and devoid of emotion that it sent an involuntary chill down Felix’s spine. “She is beyond help, my lord. There is nothing we can do. She is leytouched.”
Felix did not know what that meant, but Lord Trevalyan and his daughter clearly did. The girl threw her hands over her mouth and made a whimpering sound.
The colour drained from her father’s face. “No! I will not accept this. This is my daughter! You will… you will summon the rest of your circle and undo this madness!”
The mage seemed unimpressed. “My lord, even if I gathered all the circles in the realm, there would be nothing we could do. Unless…” He narrowed his eyes and went quiet.
“Kaeloth, you know the protocol!” the first mage stammered, still hiding behind his shield.
Trevalyan’s face twisted in fury. “There must be something – anything – you can do! Your protocol be damned, I will not accept this.” He clenched his fists, his voice trembling. “A counter-curse, an enchantment, a… a binding spell! Anything!”
The mage in green did not respond, tilting his head as he continued to observe Isolde. His expression was one of mild interest, as though he were pondering a trivial matter rather than a life-or-death situation.
Under the scrutiny of the two mages, the light around Isolde began to flicker and swirl with increasing intensity.
Lord Trevalyan’s eyes widened at the sight. “What is happening? Why is it doing that?!” he demanded. Both mages backed away into the ballroom .
Felix stood frozen. The girl was glowing, faintly at first, like the soft flame of a candle. Panic filled her face as her gaze darted between her father, the mages, and Felix. Then, her eyes locked onto his.
“Help me,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
The swirling lights around her intensified, forming a storm of sparks. Felix backed away and braced himself for another blast. Instead, she seemed to lift off the ground for the briefest moment, weightless, before collapsing in a heap. The lights vanished, and a heavy silence blanketed the garden.
“Isolde!” Lord Trevalyan called out, rushing down the steps.
The mage called Kaeloth stepped forward, cutting him off. “She is alive. The magic has most likely overwhelmed her, nothing more.” He smoothed his robes and turned to Felix.
“You – guard. Move the girl from the ley line, but keep her away from anyone else. Into the garden, perhaps,” he ordered, waving his hand vaguely. Then, addressing Lord Trevalyan, he continued, “My lord, we must speak. In private. I may have a solution.”
Without sparing another glance at Isolde, the mage spun on his heel and disappeared through the doors. His colleague stood dumbfounded, then followed behind.
Lord Trevalyan hesitated. He looked from his unconscious daughter to Felix, then visibly clenched his jaw. “Do as the mage said. I will be back soon.” He squeezed his eyes shut, pinched the bridge of his nose, then walked into the ballroom without another word.
Felix found himself alone on the destroyed remnants of the grand terrace, with a passed-out young woman, a handful of dead mages, and a giant magic-leaking fissure in the earth. Nobody at the Flagon was ever going to believe this.
He decided he would do as he was told, for now.
No matter how much he disliked this whole situation, moving the girl away from the ley line seemed the sensible thing to do.
He picked up his axe and secured it to his belt, then turned back to where Isolde lay motionless on the cracked tiles.
Kneeling down, he tentatively touched her hand.
Her skin was cold, and the brief contact sent a faint tingle across his skin.
When nothing else happened, he nodded to himself and slid one arm under her knees and the other beneath her back, taking care to touch as little of her as possible.
Straightening up, he scanned the area. Where was everyone? Had they really all fled? Should he take the girl into the garden, like the mage said? It was a rather preposterous idea under normal circumstances, but then it was not a normal evening.
He carried her as far from the ley line as he could without leaving the grounds, passing manicured hedges, fountains, and endless rows of rose bushes.
At last, he came upon a small seating area – a quiet, intimate space clearly designed for guests seeking a reprieve from the bustle of the ball.
The lake was up ahead, so he was at the edge of the estate.
A cushioned loveseat sat between two side tables, each with an unlit lantern.
Felix grimaced, but it would have to do.
Laying Isolde gently down, he pulled out his flint and tinder and lit both lanterns.
One he placed on the table beside her; the other he kept in hand.
He moved away as much as he dared while still keeping her in view.
Then he waited. He wondered if anyone would bother looking for the host’s missing daughter, and what in all the hells had possessed him to get tangled up in all this.