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Stories from the Verse
A Dozen Verses
Chapter 46: Slade 266
Table of Contents
Previous chapter: Cooper 87
The couple stood staring at the pig-like body on the ground in front of them for what seemed several minutes to Slade. Finally, Shella said, “Let me try something.”
He had no other ideas, and after all, Shella was the sorceress, he was only a fighter who dabbled in a few other skills. He extended his hand palm up, and stepped back.
As he watched, she closed her eyes for a moment, seemed to be nodding her head at the rate of once per second, and then opened them again. Crossing her arms such that her hands rested on opposite shoulders, she began walking slowly, straight ahead along one side of the pig, steps again at one per second and short strides, the space between each step about equal to the length of her foot. She continued until she had cleared the carcass, then turned sharply toward it, or rather across it beyond its length, a few short steps still at the same rate, another sharp turn taking her down the opposite side parallel to her original line. Slade wanted to ask what she was doing, but he realized she was also muttering something, and was being very precise in both the placement of her feet and the rate of her steps, and did not want to break her concentration. She made one more sharp turn and finished marking out a rectangle, stopping exactly where she had started and bringing her feet together. She then shouted something he did not understand, three syllables, stepped once more away from the animal, and the ground beneath it rose, a rectangle of dirt and debris with the body of the pig atop it, to about six inches above the ground.
As she began walking toward the farm, it followed her. She said, “Is it working?”
“I think so,” he answered. “Is it some kind of earth-moving spell?”
“Not really. It’s a sort of invisible force, a sheet of solid magic, which will float about the length of my foot above the ground and follow me until I stop walking.”
“Oh,” he said. “Then don’t stop walking,” and he hastened to catch up.
As they reached the door of the hut, she stopped, and the pig dropped unceremoniously onto the dirt.
“So,” Slade said, “next problem. How do we cook the thing?”
As to the old stories that have long been here:
