The Phoenix Ring(35)

The amogh gave a wet sounding moan and fell to the ground, Aaliyah standing behind him.

"That was the most pitiful rescue I have ever seen or heard of," the girl said, offering a hand to a very relieved Aidan.

"Are you okay?" he asked as his heartbeat began to slow down to normal speed.

"Yeah, I'm fi-" Aaliyah suddenly stopped speaking and clutched her  stomach. Aidan had just enough time to register that she was anything  but fine before she fell into his arms.

He gently lowered her to the ground, his heart already back to full  speed. She began to moan in agony, and he was helpless to do anything  but cradle her head.

After about twenty seconds she stopped and seemed well enough to speak.

"Aaliyah, what's going on?" Aidan asked, his voice shaky.

"Poison," she said, her voice weak. "The wizard forced me to take it."

"Why wouldn't you tell me?" Aidan asked, horrified.

"I thought when we got to the island, your master might be able to heal me."

"Aaliyah, you're an amogh," Aidan said, "He's a great warlock, but he  can't perform miracles. There isn't a warlock I've heard of that could  heal you."

"Oh," Aaliyah said, more than a hint of fear in her voice, "Your mission  is still far too important, Guardian." She let out a weak chuckle.  "This is not the death I had hoped to die, poisoned by a coward, my last  words spoken to a mage."

"You're not going to die," Aidan said, though he felt a despair growing  in his chest. It was strange, a few days ago he had cared no more about  Aaliyah than any other girl in the world. In truth, he had probably  cared less. But now, the thought of her dying so quickly and brutally  was worse than anything Aidan could think of, save the death of his  mother.

"Aaliyah, how long do you think you have?" he asked, but the girl didn't  answer. She was still breathing, but only barely, and her eyes had  closed.

Aidan stood and ran to the packs, looking for anything that might save his friend.

His book of magic fell out of one of the packs. As soon as he saw it, he grabbed it and ran back to Aliyah.

"Come on, come on," he said, flipping to a small section on healing.  There were spells for healing humans, dwarves, elves, even cave trolls,  but none for an amogh.

Finally, he reached the end, where a folded wad of paper fell out.  Aidan's shaking fingers pulled it flat, ripping it a little at the  sides. On the one side in huge letters was written "Extremely dangerous.  Do not attempt." On the other were the instructions for a general fix  all healing spell called "lifeline," but it wasn't like any spell Aidan  had seen before.

It only consisted of one word, kianis, the word for Arror in The Sorcerer's Tongue, but there the simplicity ended.

Aidan would literally have to reach inside himself and pull out his  Arror, then connect it with Aaliyah's. If he pulled out too little, it  could tear in two. If he pulled out too much, it could kill him. If he  and Aaliyah weren't compatible, they would both die.

If something were to go wrong, Aidan would have no idea how to fix it.  He knew nothing about Arror, save that it was the strongest magic of  all, and that it was intricately connected to a person's soul.

Aidan stared at his friend, and back at the parchment, his heart torn between loyalty and practicality.

Then, with a small shudder, Aaliyah stopped breathing.

Loyalty won out, and Aidan shouted the word, putting his hands to his chest and closing his eyes.

And he felt his soul. It was warm, a little too warm in fact. Almost  angry. It didn't want to be caught, and slipped away from his hands like  a wet stone. After three tries, he caught it, almost by the tail, and  began to pull it out of himself.

The agony of that moment was almost akin to having a morka spell cast on  him, but somehow the mage pushed through, sweat dripping down his back.  He pulled his Arror slowly, never losing his grip, never letting it  rip. Finally, when it was an arm's length away, he pushed it down onto  his friend's chest. From somewhere inside her, he felt her Arror, broken  and helpless, begin to reach up and touch his.

He felt something connect and opened his eyes, a moment before an  agonizing pain filled his stomach. In one moment, everything in him  changed. There were no words to describe what he was feeling, but in  that one moment he began to feel, and at the same time not feel,  everything his friend was experiencing. He felt her pain, her fear, and  something else, something good, that he couldn't quite understand. And  more than that, he understood her. Her anger, her passions, everything  about her was unveiled to him. He was still reveling in his new world  when Aaliyah suddenly breathed in a great gasp, though she remained  unconscious. He knew that she was dreaming about sitting in a tree by a  beautiful lake, waiting for a deer to unwittingly wander too close to  her lookout.                       
       
           



       

Then Aidan felt something wrong with the connection. He didn't know what  it was, but it seemed to cause a break in their mental telepathy for a  moment.

What could possibly have gone wrong now? The boy thought. He whispered "Kianis," and his world changed.

Suddenly, he was staring at the world through the lens of magic. Much  like when he had used the vahailen spell, he was able to see the soul of  every living creature, for miles around, though there was no color.

Aaliyah's was a weak, nearly transparent orb, connected to Aidan's by a  thin white line. About midway across that line was a tiny tear. As Aidan  watched, small sparks erupted from it, draining both Arrors one bit at a  time.

The mage began to panic and lost focus, causing his vision to regain its color and loose its soul-finding properties.

Aidan desperately grabbed the parchment that contained the spell to look for anything that could repair a broken lifeline.

At the bottom was written in small letters: "Elves are masters of Arror.  They should be consulted before a sorcerer attempts any spell dealing  with life magic."

Aidan knew little of elves. He had seen a few from a distance, but they  rarely spoke to humans. He had heard tales of their brutality, but also  of their compassion. They were said to be up to ten feet tall,  infinitely wise, and immortal. Some said that elves were still alive  that had witnessed the creation of the world, though Aidan doubted that  was true. In any case, he had heard of their healing powers.  Unfortunately, elves lived on the eastern continent of Sortiledge,  Ariyahn, which was an ocean away.

But maybe, just maybe, Aidan thought. He flipped to the back of the  book, where a map of Gurvinite, the center continent, had been magically  copied. Sure enough, there was an elven trading post located on the  Western Shore, which served to maintain contact with the dwarves.

It was about three hundred miles from where Aidan's current position,  and it was the only elven encampment of any sort in all of Gurvinite.

Aidan stared at his friend. If he tried to fly to the elven camp, he  might or might not make it before the spell broke. If he didn't, they  would both die. Even if he did, he had no guarantee the elves would help  him, and he would certainly fail to arrive at the isle when his master  needed him.

I could try to break the link, Aidan thought.

But he knew it would kill Aaliyah. He couldn't do that, now that they were linked he understood and cared for her far too much.

So, with one arm, he picked up his friend as well as he could. She was  surprisingly light for someone so strong. He walked to the griffin and  gently put her on, then loaded the packs and retrieved his staff.

For a moment he considered burying the amogh, but quickly decided  against it. He didn't have the tools, the time, or the respect necessary  to do so properly. Instead, he crossed the man's hands over his chest,  and left the body to the elements.

As he reached the griffin, who was far more expensive and well trained  than Aidan's previous ride, he slashed the ropes with the blade on the  end of his staff. Then he climbed onto the creature's saddle and took  off into the sky, just as clouds began to gather on the horizon.





Timothy arrived in Argentah just as the sky began to release its  thunderous rage. He ran to the first griffin dealer he could find, who  was selling all his beasts for an extremely high price. Apparently, all  the other griffin dealers in Argentah had been killed or lost their  wares in the past week.

Timothy had no money, but he was now on official business. What Grogg  had said before he died kept playing itself over and over in the young  mage's mind. After we take the isle, goblins will rule this land. He  didn't know what the goblin had planned, but he knew what isle they were  speaking of.

And so, it was with confidence that he strutted dirty, bloody, and  hungry into the bustling griffin barn and demanded a one person griffin,  in the name of the King.

He was immediately told to leave the barn, or at least, that's what he thought he was told through all the swearing.