‘Well, that doesn’t look like it’ll
work,’ he muttered, in a stage whisper. He was examining a transparent glass
shield about eight feet high. The shield was standing on a makeshift base,
apparently fashioned from the lid of a beer barrel.
Angharad[1]
came out from behind the glass shield with a hammer in her hand. She glared at
him.
‘Well we won’t know
if you won’t try it...’ she said
Dai[2]
plodded round it and tapped it a few times experimentally.
‘It’s not very
solid...’ he grumbled
She was running out of
patience – they had been working at this all morning.
‘That’s because it’s
thaum-proof not rock-proof...’
‘Maybe,’ he muttered,
‘but I like to see something substantial’
Angharad put down the
hammer before the desire to use it on him became irresistible. He went round
behind the screen.
‘I can’t make it
substantial’ she said, ‘it would weigh too much and be extremely fragile’
He stared at her now
through the material of the contraption; his eyes were uncertain.
‘Are you sure it’s
safe?’ he asked again.
‘Safe enough. I’m not
planning to cast a Brydia at you…’
He shrugged and
thought for a second. Angharad had seen this process of consideration many
times before – his mind was slow but strong.
‘Maybe you should
cast something as powerful as that’ he said, eventually, ‘however else will we
know if it works?’
‘Make your mind up, Dai bach’
‘Well, what’s the
point of me standing behind this bloody glass if all you’re going to do is essentially
throw eggs at me?’
‘I’m happy to throw
eggs at you in front of the glass if that’s what you want…’ she said, tartly,
‘just come round. I don’t have any eggs at the moment but there are plenty of other
things to throw at you…’
He shook his head, as
if this were a practical suggestion. He came back round to her side of the
glass, anyway.
‘That’s right, Ang,
you should cast something powerful – I can block if needs be’
Angharad narrowed her
eyes and laughed.
‘Is that a
challenge?’
Dai shook his head
soberly.
‘No – just a
statement… You’re no gwwidon brwydr[3]’
Angharad raised her
hands to acknowledge this. She wasn’t a very perceptive person so she missed
the flicker of pain that creased his brow.
‘We had a fine brwydr once’ he continued
She was puzzled.
‘We still do…’
He managed a
half-smile.
‘I suppose I must give
you that one. Celia’s a powerful witch, no mistaking…’
The words were
hanging but he’d chosen the wrong person to try to trigger a reaction. He sighed. If he had to say it, he would have
say it directly. And he said it even though he knew it would do no good.
‘I mean – I always
worked so well with Jac’
Angharad started at
the name – her eyes widened with alarm.
‘You know we don’t
talk about her’ she said, her lips tightening.
‘Aye. Which is fine
for you, I suppose, you never met her; but she was my partner…’
She frowned. It made
her friendly face stern.
‘That’s not the point
– she was disruptive and divisive… We’ve agreed to forget all about her…and
what happened…’
He put his hand up to
his head.
‘None of that makes
any difference to me. She was my friend…’
She looked at him as if he were speaking a
foreign language. She narrowed her eyes for a moment, thinking hard, and then
she carried on where she’d left off. Best to avoid things that were impossible
to understand. That was most organic, living and feeling things. She preferred
machines.
‘Anyway – let’s
concentrate’ she said, ‘I’ll start with something simple and move up’
He didn’t shift. She
insisted.
‘So come on then –
get back behind the shield’
He went round the
back again and stood there: gloomy but stoical.
She began to cast
spells. They weren’t very good spells, but she tried her best. He was right –
she was an engineer first and a witch second; but she liked to think that she
was rather a good engineer.
The spells flew out
from her hand and one by one they failed against the glass. She tried wind,
water, heat and light, but none of them penetrated the shield. Dai had begun
crouched and tense, ready to intercept any leaking spell, but by the end of the
onslaught he was standing, glum and bored. Eventually he’d had enough.
‘Frazzle me’ he said
Angharad looked
confused for a second and then shook her head.
‘No. Too dangerous…’
He yawned,
ostentatiously.
‘Whole things been a
bloody waste of good time, then…’
She glared at him,
but he didn’t seem to notice. He made as if to walk off. She waved her hand at
him.
‘I’ll do it – but you
have to be ready…’
Dai smiled grimly.
‘I’m ready’ he said,
and then whispered ‘if you can manage one…’ under his breath.
‘Brydia’ shouted Angharad, pointing at him. He grinned.
A ragged sphere of
fire cascaded from her fingers and rolled forward towards the shield. A second
later it struck the glass. It bowed outwards extravagantly, so that it almost
touched Dai. Shocked, he threw out his hands and blurted out ‘chwalu’. The glass shattered and the
fire burst through the shield. It stopped abruptly at his outstretched hands.
The fire burned itself out at the very edge of his fingertips.
Dai looked up from
the remains of the fire and spoke in measured tones.
‘So – what’s your
conclusion?’
Angharad stared at
the shards of magical glass. They were sublimating, like ice turning directly
into steam. Less than a second later the shield was completely gone.
‘It’s working fairly
well but it’s too brittle…’
‘I noticed that…’
‘I just have to find
a way to harden the glass up. It gets inflexible when you try to force magic
inside it…’
‘I can see that, too’
Angharad was a little
crestfallen. She stared glumly at the smoky remains of the shield base.
‘I’m sorry – that was
a bit… disappointing’
Dai was blowing on
his fingers. The very ends of his nails were sooty black. He tilted his head as
if she’d said something incomprehensible.
‘Does that mean
you’re giving in?’ he asked
She shrugged.
‘It took me ten days
to get that far. Perhaps I should try something else…?’
He glowered at her.
‘That’s foolish… If
you can perfect it the shield will be very useful, particularly in protecting
civilians. So what if it takes twenty days or thirty – we need your devices… No
one else will make them. Why would you give up?’
‘But do we really
need it? It’s not much good to a witch…’
‘No – but one day we
may have to save someone important who isn’t
a ‘caster from…’
He paused, reluctant
to complete the sentence. She was happy to help him out.
‘From a Sipia death spell. Yes that’s true – we
have no way of protecting a non-spell-user from that…’
Dai half-closed his
eyes while she spoke. His voice dropped to a hoarse whisper.
‘Or of protecting
ourselves, perhaps. We are still not certain that my counter spell will always work...’
She was surprised by
this. He had always seemed implacably reliable. She didn’t like what he was
saying at all.
‘Of course it will
work. You’ve spent years on it…’
He shook his head
very slowly.
‘And a coven and more
of witches have died proving my struggles ineffective…’
Angharad felt a
squirm of worry stirring in her stomach. She hated worry.
‘But not George. He’s
used it twice and survived. Twice Kratos has tried to drain him and twice he
has survived; and all because of your gomedd
incantation…’
‘We’ll see’ he
murmured, ‘we’ll see…’
He shrugged, turned
and started to walk away. For whatever reason he didn’t want to talk about
this, which worried her even more. She stood watching him, her heart racing.
‘Stop it. You’re not
being fair to me. You know that I hate uncertainty. George used it and it
worked, didn’t it? So, we should all be able to use it successfully, shouldn’t
we?’
He didn’t look back.
‘I’m going to find
lunch’ he said, and walked out of the workshop.
She followed him, anxious and not the slightest bit hungry.
No comments:
Post a Comment