Hooked on Imprisoned in Stone, Trapped in a Spell, #MFRWHooks

Today is another post showcasing magic of a darker kind. Imprisoned in Stone. For the crime of healing without payment, the Brethren imprisoned Dylan’s soul in stone. When a mind touches his and hope for escape from his eternal prison soars. 

To set the scene, Maerva has been accepted as an apprentice mage and is learning her craft. Her first journeyman task is to escort a herd of magical equines called the seisag to a winter grazing ground. In last week's post, Maerva forms a magical bulwalk against the storm, but at a cost. To hold the spell, she ended up trapped in it.

Excerpt:

Tiring of the forced frivolity in the room, Gareth rose and with his mug of wine, he headed upstairs to the room provided him by Suliceen, the headmistress of Iolair Creag. Wickless lanterns cast shadows on the curving steps of the narrow staircase. The sense of unease that he had at first attributed to the howling wind grew stronger the moment he entered his room. His thoughts flickered from one person to another until they settled on Maerva. He didn’t know if it was because he was in her ancestral home or if she was in danger.

“There is one way to find out.” The sound added to his determination even as it made the room seem less empty. Stoking the fire, he lay down and turned on his side to watch the flames dance. Maerva’s image formed in the glow of the coals.

“Something is wrong,” he muttered. “My powers may not be that strong, but hers are enough to sense my call.” He tried a second, and a third time. After the fourth unsuccessful attempt to contact her, he tried a different spell. That one also hit an impervious wall.

“She is trapped in a spell,” Gareth moaned. “I can’t break through her shield.” His head throbbed with the effort that fueled his call to Fiodh. “Brother, I need your help.”

The other man’s instant response worried Gareth as much as the effortless way he submitted to his brother’s will. Their combined magic created a river of light that soared through the darkness until the loop settled around Maerva. Gareth surged forward and pushing Fiodh aside in the link took over control of the spell.

“Wake up, Maerva,” he whispered. Over and over, he repeated the call.

The tension left the magical cord. It collapsed and a moment later disintegrated into a shimmer of sparks that faded until they blended with the darkness. Maerva had returned to awareness. She was safe.

Somehow, he staggered to a chair and collapsed bonelessly into it. Confusion at the mental strength he exhibited rippled through his mind. In a game of powers, he had never beaten his brother. He wondered if it was because Maerva needed him that his magic flamed. Maybe I should meet this new apprentice of Tralin’s in person.



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