The Spirit Wilds: Magic of the Green Sage (Fall of the Sages Book 1), стр. 16

“Godly Ruin?” Dorrick asked incredulously. “That’s what we’re using, sir?”

“Indeed it is, Vane.”

“But— But, sir, won’t this attract any hostile spirits in the area? Who knows what will show up? I don’t think we’re equipped for a horde.”

Godly Ruin was an exceptional piece of alchemical ingenuity. Blackened soil from the Forgotten Continent, ground sabercat bones, and the blood of a high dragon. It was hard to make and harder to even get the ingredients. It was illegal to use by anyone that wasn’t a knight, because it called all nearby spirits and almost always enraged them. Not something to be used lightly.

Sir Nogrund was undeterred. “I know it’s dangerous, which is why you’re going to draw a warding circle around the clearing. Any lesser spirits that cross it will be exorcised. As for the big beasties, well, that’s what we’re here for.” He dug another pouch out of this bandolier and tossed it to Dorrick. “Here.”

Dorrick caught it, though he almost dropped it he was so caught off guard. “Sir?”

“It’s ward powder. Ground up hart antlers, and anointed stalks of thyme and rosemary. It’s used by a lot of wildling settlements to keep out malicious spirits, though ours won’t turn them away but incinerate them if they cross it.”

Well, that would certainly be helpful for the coming fight. Dorrick didn’t know much about warding magic, as only Madam Sage Reshni practiced magic, along with her priests. But alchemy had a lot of magical elements too, right? So he knew enough.

“Spread it in a slow circle around us,” ordered Sir Nogrund. “Make sure to keep the line of powder unbroken.”

He nodded and did what he was told. While the others continued to prepare for battle, Dorrick slowly stalked the perimeter of their little clearing, letting the warding powder fall from his enclosed fist. There was some other magic at work, because the pouch was about the size of his palm, but powder kept on coming, never running out until just when he finished the circle. He looked at the small hide bag with suspicion.

Magic? Was it enchanted by the sage? That would explain why there was a grain bag full of powder in a pouch smaller than a coin purse.

Once he was done, he gave the pouch back to the knight. Sir Nogrund nodded, his expression grim and serious.

“I pray you are ready.”

“As ready as I can possibly be,” Dorrick replied, and that was the truth. He legs trembled and his heart still sang a frantic tune, but nothing would stop that, so he just had to suck in a breath and be ready for whatever the hell was about to happen.

Sir Nogrund smirked. “Good.” His eyes found the others. “If any of you wish to resign on your shields now and forfeit your place in the order, now is the time. Otherwise, be ready for a fight that may well lead to your end.”

Dorrick was happy to see that none of his friends even entertained the thought of leaving. Well, he didn’t know if they thought it, but he knew them, knew them as well as he knew anyone, and his friends weren’t ones to quit. Not for anything, and they definitely wouldn’t run from a fight.

When no one objected, Sir Nogrund nodded. “Good. Now, let’s begin. Be ready.”

He unsealed the top of the vial, which took some doing because you didn’t want just anyone to be able to open it so easily. It took a special little key that each high-ranking knight was given. Only they could open it. Once it was opened, Sir Nogrund paused to take a deep breath, then he turned the vial over and poured out the contents.

It was liquid, but thick like blood. Like the crude black gunk that miners sometimes struck in the mines along the western coasts. When it hit the grass, it coagulated into a steaming, sizzling mess. The smell was tremendous. Not bad, exactly, but strong, like being around onions but much worse. The squires pulled up their cloaks to cover their mouths and noses.

Sir Nogrund did the same. “Sorry, forgot to warn you about that.”

As they watched, the Godly Ruin bubbled and built, growing taller and taller and solid, like a crystal. It was a magnificent—if not a bit horrifying—thing to witness, like something alive. Dorrick had learned about the use and effects of the stuff and how it was made, but he didn’t know this was what it looked like when it was used. It made him feel queasy.

It finally solidified into a jagged, shimmering black crystal almost as tall as Marcella. For several seconds, nothing happened. Is that it? Dorrick thought. Did it work?

Just when he thought that, the crystal glowed white-hot for a flash and sent out a pulse that rippled through the air and went through them all. It felt like being pushed by a strong gust of wind, but otherwise, Dorrick was fine. The squires all looked at one another to make sure they were all in one piece. Dorrick should have known better. He was aware of what Godly Ruin did, and that it wasn’t harmful to humans. Still, with such strong alchemy/magic, one could never be too cautious.

Several seconds slipped by in silence, the air thick with it. Dorrick’s pulse thumped in his skull, much too loud for his liking. It was much too quiet.

Until Sir Nogrund spoke. “Everyone steady, they’re coming.”

Dorrick wondered how he knew, but then he felt it. Like an itch that ran up his arms and legs, making his hair stand on edge and gooseflesh pebble his skin. There was a sense of dread that spread through him, though that might have just been him and not an actual product of the incoming spirits.

Suddenly, a small blue spirit—like a butterfly with the tail of a monkey—came screaming into the clearing. As soon as it passed the warding circle, it blazed a bright purple light and in a flash