Page 116 of Pretense

Beside him, Weylind flinched, grimacing as Rharreth’s magic spread through the ground beneath their feet. In front of Farrendel, shielding him from the tower, Iyrinder rubbed at his temples, as if a headache was already forming.

Farrendel caught Melantha’s gaze. “Your stone is working. I feel fine, even now.”

Melantha flashed him a quick smile before she glanced past him at Weylind and Iyrinder. She darted out from the sheltering stone, pressed green-laced fingers to first Weylind’s temple, then Iyrinder’s. When they each relaxed, she flitted back into cover.

“There’s some movement inside the tower now.” The troll guard, Zavni, reported, his gaze focused intently in that direction. “Doesn’t look like they are too stirred up just yet.”

Rharreth’s magic shot out in either direction, chilling Farrendel’s toes even through his boots. “I can sense the bedrock beneath us and the next marking stones to either side of us. Laesornysh?”

Farrendel nodded and drew on his magic. If the Mongavarians had not been worried yet, they would be in a moment. With a deep breath, he poured his magic into the stone.

As soon as his magic clashed against Rharreth’s, pain flared up Farrendel’s arm and spiked in his head and chest.

Rharreth made a hissing sound between his teeth. “Melantha?”

Moments later, Melantha rested a hand on Farrendel’s arm, then on Rharreth’s.

As her magic flowed into him, the pain eased.

Farrendel squeezed his eyes shut, reached deep inside himself, and released his magic. It exploded from him into the stone, crackling high into the sky above them.

“Well, that got their attention,” Zavni said with something almost like humor in his voice.

Weylind made a low growl in the back of his throat a moment before his magic flooded the ground beneath Farrendel’s feet.

A groaning came from the forests on either side of them. Then, the trees almost seemed to move, closing the gap across the valley. Saplings sprang from the earth, growing rapidly into a wall.

A boom sounded. Seconds later, something crashed into the dirt well in front of them.

“A warning shot.” Zavni’s fingers flexed on the handle of his ax. “I don’t think they’ll shoot low a second time.”

“Understood.” Weylind’s wall grew higher, strengthening from saplings to bigger trees.

Like a torrent, Farrendel’s magic spilled to either side of him, racing alongside Rharreth’s magic until it quickly caught up to its ends on either side. It churned at the edges, as if begging Rharreth’s magic to go faster.

“Laesornysh,” Rharreth growled between gritted teeth.

“Trying.” Farrendel tightened his grip on his magic, concentrating on melding it with Rharreth’s magic instead of fighting it.

As Rharreth pushed his magic farther, Farrendel channeled his power along it. He sensed the way trees and vegetation were incinerated along the border. But he reached past that, sending his magic deep into the ground to where Rharreth’s magic had found the bedrock.

Another boom reverberated from the tower. Something smashed into Weylind’s wall with a shattering of wood and the groan of a forest in pain. The sharper cracks of rifle fire filled the air.

“Do you need me to shield us?” Farrendel was not sure how he would manage to hold a shield while also controlling the rest of his magic pouring along the border, but he would figure out a way if he had to.

“No.” Weylind bit out his answer.

Good. Farrendel’s magic was already fighting him. It wanted to surge, fully unleashed, but he had to keep it reined in and at the same pace as Rharreth’s power.

“Can your magic go any faster?” Farrendel’s fingers felt slick and burning with the power he was holding back.

“No.” Rharreth’s glare was piercing even though Farrendel was not looking at him. “My magic is steady as stone, not flighty.”

“Like a grasshopper?” Farrendel let his magic blast into Rharreth’s with just a little more power than necessary.

“Exactly.” Rharreth grunted, his magic straining against Farrendel’s.

“Are the two of you bantering at a time like this?” Weylind’s tone conveyed that disapproving scowl of his. Another cannonball smashed into Weylind’s trees, but his magic held back the splinters from flying into them.

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