Chapter 42: Chapter 42: Dara, The Philosopher

At dusk, Aonair climbed out on the stones. Fearing he could be seen, that the sky was still too light, he plunged into the ocean. His body tingled with magic. How easily he swam in the churning water among the huge, jagged rocks. When the guards on the wall stopped to chat, he swam farther out. When they turned toward him, he hid himself behind a rock. With his magiced eyes he peered into the window of the eastern turret, into the shadowy depths, and found no one. The guards in the southern turret were turned away from him, their eyes on the land. Within minutes, he left behind the rocky shore. A few minutes more, and Castle Togair had shrunk to the size of the toy castle Padraig had given him when he was little.

Aonair dallied in the deep, cold water, floating on his back.

Her eyes . . .

Her hair . . .

She's so tiny.

Eventually, regretfully, he gave up his musings and resumed swimming with long, fluid strokes. In less than an hour, he saw Rith playing in the surf, trotting forward as if daring the waves, galloping back up the sand when one crashed ashore.

Carefully, Aonair pulled his hood over his healed scalp and ear, and swam in.

“Didn't expect you until much later,” Dara said, looking as if he hadn't moved since Aonair left. He lay on his back in the sand, his hands behind his head. “Tired?”

“No.”

“Really.” Dara rolled to his feet. “You swam in against the tide.”

Abruptly, Aonair looked out at the sea. “I was hungry. Didn't want to wait. Rith! Come!”

The horse came running at a full gallop, then circled the two men. “Wanna play, do you?” At once, Aonair gave chase. Rith stopped running in circles and took off down the beach. Twenty yards later, Aonair leapt onto his back. Signaling to Rith to turn with pressure from his thigh muscles, they loped back to Dara.

“Anything you want to tell me about?” Dara asked.

“No.”

“Did you find the door?”

“No.”

“Meet anyone?”

“No.”

You are reading story The Death of Magic at novel35.com

“So nothing happened?”

“That's what I said.” Aonair slid from Rith's back, bent, and slung the saddle on his back.

Dara, arms folded across his chest, said, “Didn't meet anyone, didn't see anything, just a boring day at the beach.”

“That's what I said.”

“Hmmm. But mayhap you should pull your hood back up before we return to camp. It fell off when you chased down Rith, and caught him, while—mind you—he was running at a full gallop. And then, with your full head of hair flying out behind you, you leapt onto his bare back.”

Horses saddled; the friends rode halfway back in silence before Dara could no longer hold his tongue.

“Did you hear the tale about a fool who got himself magiced?”

Aonair urged Rith to trot faster.

“Seems, this idiot—and never was there a greater idiot. I mean, people have been telling stories for centuries and living and dying and doing all sorts of stupid stuff, but this man was the stupidest of them all. You see, this idiot—the supreme idiot of all idiots—so loved magic, so craved it, that he would do anything, and I mean anything for more. Why he'd betray his brothers, his father . . .

“You will be silent!”

“ . . . shout at his poor, well-meaning friend.”

“Silence!”

“Hmmm . . . well . . . no. Because, of course, you know what all that beautiful, healed head of yours look likes, don't you? First a dragon burns you to a crisp, then Togair declares you dragon-touched, and now you return from the witch castle all healed.”

In one fluid movement, Aonair whipped around in his saddle, grabbed the front of Dara's shirt, and lifted Dara over his head. “No,” Aonair growled, “I don't know. Do you think I wanted my mother dead? Tell me. What does this look like?” He threw Dara to the ground.

Dara shouted up at him, “It looks like someone is playing you for a fool. Let me guess, they're in trouble, they need your help, and all you must do is risk your life. But don't worry, at every step they'll load you up with magic, until you feel like you could never lose. But here's the poop in the pig sty, the stinking part of the whole stinking mess. If magic could solve the problem, and they have magic, why do they need you?”

You can find story with these keywords: The Death of Magic, Read The Death of Magic, The Death of Magic novel, The Death of Magic book, The Death of Magic story, The Death of Magic full, The Death of Magic Latest Chapter