Read Young Warlock Page 3


  ***

  "Are you telling us everything that happened?"

  Buurn knew the innkeeper was keeping something from her. Despite this, she had no wish to press any harder. She closed her eyes, no more than a long blink, and drew in the world around her. She could feel Eliazer's heart pounding furiously in his chest, the blood rushing through his veins, pulsing in his temples. Martha stood in breathless silence behind the door, listening intently to their conversation. Upstairs, a young girl whom she guessed to be Dorn, lay in a fretful sleep. The scent of fresh blood hung in the air of her room causing Buurn to shudder involuntary. The aroma of fire pervaded the house as though someone had been running through it with a pan of hot embers.

  "The warlock, tell me about him," urged Buurn.

  "I have already told Finlay everything that took place." Eliazer's lip trembled. "I have nothing more to say, now good day."

  Eliazer stomped back into the inn, slamming the door shut. There was click of a lock and the scraping of bolts; the inn would not be opening today.

  "That could have gone better." Regis walked over to his horse and mounted up. "Time to move on."

  Buurn remained by the door, her eyes closed. She could feel Eliazer and Martha behind the door, sobbing heavily in each other's arms. Buurn, sighing deeply, turned to catch up with Regis as they headed north out of Bethraim.

  Regis waved to those he knew as he rode past, noting how they shied away from Buurn. Some spat on the ground as she looked at them, their faces full of hate.

  "Have you been here before, upsetting the villagers?" Regis laughed.

  "No, this is my first time here." Buurn walked to the edge of track, stooping to feel the grass which was still wet from the rain. "He has avoided the road." She pointed to where the grass had been flattened in a lengthening trail. Kneeling in the meadow she pushed her hand into one of the sodden footprints.

  "Are you sure they are his tracks?" Regis looked along the trail left by Dekor; even he could not fail to follow him through the tall grass.

  "His taint is upon them." Buurn rose and began running alongside the trail and at a pace no man could hope to match without a good horse to carry him.

  An hour later she stopped at the point where Dekor had crossed the road. Buurn jumped across it, took two steps then stopped and knelt down.

  "What is it?" Regis looked at Buurn, his blue eyes narrowed beneath a furrowing brow, then up at a faint wisp of smoke on the horizon off the main road.

  "He went that way then, it would appear, he returned." Buurn followed the trail back across the road. "And went this way toward the smoke." Buurn examined the extra prints, biting her at her lip.

  Regis jumped from his horse, checking for himself. "If only it had not rained so heavily through the night then the tracks would be intact."

  "Indeed." Buurn stood up, staring straight at Regis she said. "Would it be possible for someone to possess great magical power and go unnoticed?"

  "I would not like to think so. Why do you ask?" He tipped his head to one side examining Buurn's countenance. "Every year we go through the villages taking a census of all magic folk. There has never been much out this way except for… Dekor."

  "The one we are hunting." Buurn shook her head lightly. "These tracks are Dekor's, and yet they are not. If we follow those," pointing to the north, "our quarry will get further ahead. What lies that way?"

  "East is Learmont, a large forest full of the biggest spiders in all the lands, and more besides. If he has run there, then he has likely as not gone to his death."

  "This is your jurisdiction; you will have to choose which way we travel. I am only here to assist." Buurn straightened her shoulders.

  Regis mounted his horse. Offering his hand to Buurn he said, "We go north. I don't remember there being anything over that way, just an old hag that screamed at everyone that ever got to her door."

  Buurn waved the hand away, choosing instead to track on foot. Regis let Buurn go a few paces ahead so he would not disturb the ground. At least he had remembered something useful from his tracking. The rest of his classes at the University of Elements had been lost somewhere near the bottom of a horn of mead. He looked to the east smiling before urging his horse to follow after Buurn.