Chapter 26: Pig Farmer

Chapter 26: Pig Farmer

Pig Farmer

Kalen could have asked so many more questions. But it wasnt worth the risk. The pixie might change her mind about helping him, or there could be an unknown time limit on his return, or Nanu or Lander might come to check on him and find his bodyunconscious? Stumbling around mindlessly? Dead?

So as soon as Lutcha proffered the Disc, he reached for it with both hands.

Later, he would wonder about a lot of things. What exactly had the mysterious artifact done to him? How long had it taken? Where had he been in the time between making contact with it and the moment he became aware of his own body again?

From his perspective, nothing at all happened. He had no sensation of movement, no instant of darkness as if hed blinked. He was in the tree with Lutcha and her astral kitten, and then he was himself again.

All of himself.

He hadnt realized how much hed left behind. It all crashed into him at once. Physical sensation, the bulk of his emotions, the whole of the tangible world.

It was agony.

Everything, everything hurt him. The smooth stone beneath his cheek felt like shards of broken glass. The rain drenching him pierced like icy needles. Even the dim gray light of the stormy day stabbed his eyes.

Kalen slammed them shut and lay trembling and helpless against the onslaught of physical sensation. And his confused, screaming emotions were making everything worse.

He was angry. Ashamed.

Scared.

He was so afraid it nearly eclipsed everything else, and even a few minutes later, when his senses had finally settled enough for him to understand that physically he was finejust a little cold, a lot wet, and sore from lying motionless on the stonethe fear remained undulled.

His heart raced. He breathed too fast. Like a young child hiding from terrors in the night, he couldnt bring himself to open his eyes.

You baby, he chided himself. Calm down. You survived. Youre back on your rock. Whats there to be afraid of?

As if the question had given his thoughts permission to sort themselves out, an entire catalogue of petrifying things sprang to mind.

Something powerful from a place he hadnt even known existed wanted his body and soul for its own. Lutchas assurance that he was a wrong-shaped lock for the sylph now was barely a comfort.

After all, Lutcha herself was alien, mercurial, and morally disturbed. Kalen was surprised she hadnt tried to feed him to her cat.

He thought the pixie was probably right and probably had been honest with him. But given the seriousness of the threat, the knowledge that his safety was merely probable didnt take the edge off his terror.

On top of that, there was the final confirmation of his own origins. He wasnt a person. Not in the right, simple way everyone else got to be. He was an amalgam made by magic. The nine hundred and forty-third lizards tail. A number, a decoy, a cobbled-together creation made for a use instead of a life.

Hed thought it was the case, but knowing for sure was different. More serious. Now, he couldnt look away from it.

Well...does it matter?

Kalen didnt actually caremuch that hed been made by a wizarn family using magical arts that were surely blasphemous. It was weird and disturbing, of course, but he didnt feel inhuman. He didnt think he was dark or dirty.

But he was certain other peoplemost people evenwould believe him to be all those things if they found out. That was what really scared him.

Zevnie had told him that they burned a girl on her island just for having gills.

What would people do to Kalen? To his family? Would they think his father and mother were guilty of harboring a monster? Would they hurt Fanna, too, even though she was only a baby?

He clenched his hands into fists, feeling his knuckles scrape against the rock. No one can know. Nobody can ever know.

The thought of his family reminded him that he couldnt afford to lie here shivering and scared witless.

Someone could see him. They could suspect something was wrong with him. He had to act normal. He had to be normal every minute of every hour of every day of his life so that he would never be discovered.

The clarity hed been looking for ever since Zevnie left the island had finally come to him. It was all so simple really.

He would throw his books into the ocean, give up on magic, and curse the aurora whenever it appeared! He would take a proper interest in pigs besides Sleepynerth and seriously focus on hog farming.

It wasnt like he hated it. It was only a little tiresome. And he enjoyed working with his father. Jorn would be happy. Shelba would be happy. It would be easier for everyone in the family, and in the village, and Fanna would be safe.

I could be a priest of Veila. She doesn't seem like the sort of god who would mind me being a liar. It was a thought.

Every plan, no matter how bad, started with delaying the moment his crime was discovered for as long as possible. That meant he had to leave the rock so that nobody would come there to visit him.

It was a relief when he made it to the part of the forest that didnt look like it had been hit by a localized hurricane. After walking for an hour, hed even calmed down enough for a less-pressing worry to make itself known.

His magic was leaking.

It took him a while to notice because he had been avoiding thinking about his pathways. They didnt feel quite right, but that was only to be expected. Hed blasted more power through them than ever before, and then theyd been assaulted by a being from another plane, and then hed been yanked apart from them somehow when he traveled to the second world

He would have to figure out why that was. He was almost positive that the pathways were a spiritual thing more than they were a physical one. You couldnt cut a person open and see them, after all. Shouldnt they have gone along with him to the swamp?

Anyway, Kalen assumed he was magically damaged. Somehow. And he preferred not to look too closely while he was occupied with the dozen other parts of his life hed ruined.

But the leakage wasnt really something he had to go looking for. It was obvious. Like that time hed cast for hours and hours, drunk on the aurora that had brought Sorcerer Arlade and Zevnie to Hemarland. His magic felt loose and sloppy inside him, as if it was oozing beyond the boundaries of its customary tangled shape.

He stopped walking and considered the matter.

Maybe it was best not to ignore it altogether. It would be hard to focus on repairing it, if that was what the situation warranted, when he was around others. So he should at least figure out what he was dealing with.

Exhausted and resigned, Kalen found a comfortable spot under a tree. It was well sheltered by low arching limbs and only a little damp. Since the rain had slowed to more of a misty drizzle, he took off his wet clothes and pulled a dry shirt from his pack.

It smelled like home.

Back resting against the trunk he closed his eyes and began his inspection. His pathways were still there, and to his surprise, they looked intact and correctly shaped despite the abuse hed put them through.

His nuclei felt more prominent than they hadmuch more prominent in the case of the wind nucleus. But it was more that his sense of them was far stronger than it had been than that they had actually changed. Kalen knew instinctively that building spell patterns near the wind magic aligned nucleus would now be easier than it had before. If he dared risk it.

Despite the fact that he was miraculously whole, though, he wasnt wrong about the leakage. His pathways were there, and they were whole, but they were squishy? Or maybe it was better to think of them as porous?

Kalens magic was bleeding out into the world around him without him giving it any instruction to do so. And it was a lot more than hed felt the one other time this had occurred.

It was fine last time. Nothing bad happened because of it, and it fixed itself after a few hours.

It wasnt even a bad feeling. It was only disturbing because it was out of the ordinary.

Still, Kalen found himself looking around like he had before, trying to figure out what the escaping magic was doing. If it was pure mana, that would be one thing. It would just exist in the world until something absorbed it or influenced it. But technically any mana that had passed through a practitioners pathways became magic. Which was likemana with an opinion.

Plenty of people used the words interchangeably, including Kalen. But he did know that there was a difference. Mana sat around waiting to do something. Magic did things.

Magic that hadnt been formed into a deliberate spell could be too weak to have an obvious effect, or it could encounter another magic that shifted its nature or even neutralized it, but still

Kalen was leaking a fairly large amount of magic. He was alone here in the woods. And Hemarland had virtually no magical plant or animal life to counter him. So he should have been able to see or sense an effect.

He paid careful attention. The pine needles rustled over his head. Somewhere nearby, a woodpecker drummed against a tree. Fat water drops spattered onto the forest floor.

It was all so mundane.

But given the experience hed had today, Kalen felt nervous. He decided he would sit in place and observe. Maybe time would make the effects of the leak more apparent.

Magic could be more dangerous than hed imagined. He didnt want to spill a large quantity of it around his family without knowing its nature.

He sat there for an hour, watching and waiting. He made a few cursory attempts to stem the leak, but he didnt actually know how. Hed never read of a technique for making your pathways more solid; it wasnt supposed to be an issue. And when he timidly moved his magic through them, ever so careful not to mess around with the wind nucleus, the rate of leakage seemed to increase.

Opening his eyes after his latest attempt, Kalen happened to glance toward the pine branch nearest him. It was a spindly one covered in dark green needles that were beginning to brown.

He frowned. Had the branch been browning before? It looked sick.

He turned his full attention toward it, and after long observation, his worst suspicions were confirmed. Often, the branch rustled as though it had been lightly brushed by a passing hand. Sometimes, mysteriously, it looked longer or shorter than it should have. But most importantly, it was turning ever so slowly browner and browner, as if it were suffering from a long drought.

When Kalen started looking at the area around him with this horrible new insight, he saw more and more evidence that couldnt be written off as coincidence. There was a dead beetle on the ground by his foot. A patch of moss that should have been green and thriving this time of year was dry and gray. The leaves of a vine that wrapped itself around the neighboring tree were curling and spotted.

Kalen was killing things just by coming into contact with them.