The spell in Goodfellow’s hand now contained a terrible intensity of power, similar in magnitude to the Great Spell that had originally transformed the Argum Stone from rock to ring. As if on cue, thunder called from outside the tower, for it was the way of nature to become unsettled when such unnatural amounts of magic were gathered or expended.
Goodfellow began shaking with exertion and his hands were trembling from the effort. ‘I don’t know how long I can keep this up.’ He looked at Eric. ‘It’s nearly time. Start the Journey spell before I lose control.’
Eric stood back and took a few deep breaths. He had used a lot of power, but he seemed to have a great deal left. Again the door behind them boomed and shook as the Paatin rammed into it with something massive.
‘They will be in here any moment, so we need to leave, Eric,’ Samuel said with concern, gritting his teeth with effort. ‘And I don’t know how long I can keep up these shields.’
‘What will happen when it does release?’ Eric asked. ‘What kind of spell is it?’
‘It’s no kind of spell, only undirected magic-raw potential. It will be energy ripping in all directions-heat and light, force and wind. It will be utter destruction to anything it touches. If it is powerful enough, it will tear the ether and the citadel will be destroyed,for sure. At least, that’s our theory.’
A ripple of lightning flashed from outside and the pain continued through Samuel until he, too, was shaking from the effort.
Eric began work on his Journey spell, hastily crafting it from memory and instinct. It began to build around him like an orb of intricate design, etched in countless tiny traces and lines of magic. ‘It’s ready,’ he said after only a few moments, locking the spell into place.
Samuel was relieved, for he did not think he could maintain himself any longer. He only wished he was not struggling so much, for he had missed the chance to memorise the missing pieces of the Journey spell for himself.
‘It’s all right, Samuel,’ Goodfellow told him. ‘You don’t need to hold the spell any longer. We only need it to last another few moments. Once I release it, there will be nothing stopping it anyway.’
‘Are you sure?’ Samuel asked and he could hear the desperation in his own voice.
Goodfellow nodded. ‘Are you really sure?’ he asked again.
‘Yes!’ Goodfellow declared. ‘Now stop it before you kill yourself.’
That was enough for Samuel, and he pushed his power back into the Argum Stone and ripped the thing from his finger. At once, he felt cool relief, stumbling away from the others and flapping his hands to cool them. He dropped the ring back into his pocket where Eric could not see.
It was then that Goodfellow gave them the grave news. ‘Unfortunately, we’ve made a small oversight. I’m afraid you will have to leave without me.’
‘What’s that?’ Samuel asked him.
‘If I stop for even a moment, the spell will release. It is only my adding to the spell that is keeping it stable. Your shield is not enough. I can’t leave or it will kill us all.’
‘Nonsense,’ Eric told him. ‘I can Journey us away the moment we are ready.’
Goodfellow only shook his head. The incandescent spell between his hands reflected in his eyeglasses like unholy firelight. His fingers were glowing red, with the shadows of his bones visible at their middle. ‘That won’t be quick enough. I’m sorry, Eric. I didn’t realise it would be like this.’
‘Then I can bring the spell to you. We will all Journey away and leave the spell behind.’
‘How will you separate me from the spell?’ Goodfellow asked. ‘I’m holding onto it. You would have to cut my hands off.’
Eric and Samuel looked at each other with dread.
‘Then that’s how it will have to be,’ Samuel said
‘Oh, no,’ Goodfellow retorted. ‘I hate to say it, but if you even bring your Journey spell near to me, it will destroy us. This spell is much too unstable. It will draw in your magic and then we would all be dead.’
‘I’m afraid he’s right,’ Samuel said after a moment’s careful thought. ‘That spell is chaotic. Anything could happen.’
‘We can burn it off, Samuel! Cast it out the window!’ Eric yelled, for the hellish noise of Goodfellow’s spell was becoming louder, a constant flurry of crackling and squealing as it struggled to be free.
‘We would need something enormous to use that much power. What do we have? Even attempting something like that now could be disastrous. Trying to tap the spell as it is could set it off.’
Eric now had tears streaming down his cheeks. ‘No, Samuel,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘We can’t leave him!’
There seemed to be no alternative. Even if the room werequiet and he had time, it would be difficult to think of some way to defuse the nightmarish power they had summoned. Samuel could only shake his head. They had made a dreadful error in judgement.
‘Go!’ Goodfellow yelled. ‘Go now! Go!’ He was shaking feverishly to contain the spell.
‘Eric!’ Samuel roared out, shaking his friend by the shoulders. ‘We have no choice. We have to leave-now!’ He was within the bounds of the Journey spell. All Eric had to do was release it and they would both be away from the room-away from Goodfellow, Ghant and its immediate destruction.
Eric was loose in his grip, as if he had given up hope.
‘Eric! There’s nothing we can do!’ Samuel bellowed again, looking over his shoulder to the struggling form of Goodfellow. ‘Release the spell!’
It was then that three things happened,each one barely a fraction of a second after the last. First, the door burst open as a great length of timber came crashing in. Through the splintered gap,they could see thatthe hallway was full of Paatin, some of them shimmering with magic, and they began stepping over the broken pieces of wood and surging into the room. Second, with the last spark of his willpower, Goodfellow pushed all the power of his spell as tightly as he could, down into one tiny spot, so it looked as if the thing had swallowed itself into a single atomic speck. The crackling and the hissing and shrieking of the spell all ceased, and the room was deathly quiet. Goodfellow looked up at them with a glum but contented look in his eye. The third thing that happened was that Eric Pot triggered his Journey spell and,in the next instant,he and Samuel were standing in the cold night air of the mounting yard, far along the ravine and surrounded by the last fleeing remnants of Ghant’s defenders.
They heard a noise; a sharp crack followed by a hollow boom and they turned their heads towards the vast central tower of Ghant. Night turned to day and the mountain fortress disappeared in a sudden,blinding flash. A wave of violence rippled up the mountainsides and the storm clouds fled before it. The boiling wind hit everyone in the mounting yard with a deafening noise and the earth bucked them from their feet, sending man and horse alike sprawling over. Eric fell, too, for his strength had been sapped from him, drawn away by the fading luminous lines of his Great Spell. Only Samuel still stood to witness the death of Ghant.
As the initial blast passed him by, it could be seen that the top of the citadel was gone and the rest of the structure had begun to fall in upon itself. With a massive rumbling, the mountainside on which the fortress was forged began to slide away and was swallowed by an enormous plume of billowing dust. That was when the soldiers all around him began to yell in fear.
‘Go,go,go!’ they yelled and every soldier scrambled to his feet and fled for all he was worth, away from the chasm’s edge and down along the mountain path. The earth tremored and the shaking grew into a mighty swaying as boulders and slabs of solid stone the size of houses came crashing down amongst them.
Samuel had Eric by the collar of his robes and was pulling the magic-weary magician along behind him. His last sight of Ghant was of it slipping into the dust-shrouded chasm, ripping away from the mountain and taking the entire lip of the ravine with it. Those Paatin who had made it from the citadel were gone, crushed or thrown to their deaths. Those on the far side of the chasm began retreating as much as they could, for the far ledge had also begun to give way. Their entire army had pushed up behind them and stones fell on those in equal proportion as they fled.
Ghant was lost. The cost had been great, but the Paatin horde would not cross this way.
‘Samuel,’ Eric called as he was dragged and pulled by Samuel down the narrow valley approach. He had seemed to recover some of his senses. ‘Is it done? Did we make it?’
‘We did,’ Samuel said. ‘Ghant has been destroyed.’
‘Where is Eric? What have we done to our friend?’
‘He is dead,’ Samuel replied. ‘Now come. Let us get to Shallowbrook. We have much to do.’
