32 loop 1, part 12

I had thought, for a moment, my uncle was going to be dead. But he was breathing. I put my hand down on his back to be sure, because I didn’t trust my own eyes with how tired I was. But his back rose under my palm. His breathing was shallow and slow, but it was there.

That was the only examination I knew how to do. Finn had spells for this. He could touch someone’s wrist and read them like a menu. He’d know the heart rate, he’d know mana flow. He’d know if any bones were broken or if there was an illness or anything wrong with the person. I was kicking myself. Again.

One more time where putting in the effort earlier would have made my life easier now. I was forgetting the cardinal rule. Put in effort if needed to prevent more effort later. Not that I had any mana either way.

I hugged my uncle even though I knew he couldn’t feel it. “You’re alive, you’re alive, you’re alive,” I said to myself. I just sat there for probably too long, thanking Therumia that I had found him alive.

And then, of course, somewhere off in the stacks, something knocked. Small, wet knuckles rapped on stone. And then another set, and another set, and another set. The Frollarts had noticed that there was still food in the room.

“Right. We’re going. Quickly.”

The big hand was still floating in front of me, half open. The spell only lasted five minutes, and I had spent most of those minutes killing something. I did the math instantly and against my will, which was how all my math got done. The hand had seconds left. It was useless to me.

I needed another idea. The knocking in the stacks was closer. Two more sets had joined in. I looked at my uncle. He was a grown-ass man, and a lot of dead weight. I was not strong. So carrying my uncle with my third arm was a fantasy. And dragging him would get us nowhere. But there was a spell for this. There was always one more spell if I was willing to pay the cost.

[Move — Enchantment]

Cost: Variable. Scales with the size of the target. 60 mana

Enchants a solid object to follow the caster at a set distance.

Duration: until dispelled.

The funny thing about this spell was that it had been made for moving injured patients. But I had never used it that way. I always used it to move things I didn’t want to pick up.

I pointed my wand at his robes and cast. The mana went out of me like someone had pulled a plug. Moving Flag had cost me 20. A full-grown headmaster and everything he was wearing cost 60. My mana pool indicator dropped and settled into a deep, impatient, barely visible red. I didn’t need to look at my HUD to know: If I cast anything else, I was fucked.

I looked at the 2 mana left in my mana pool, and it was like an out-of-body experience. Without the 4 mana [Feedback Loop] had handed back earlier, I couldn’t have cast this at all. The passive had officially saved my life by the thinnest margin possible.

Corwen rose into the air like a marionette on a puppeteer’s strings. His head lolled to one side. But I adjusted him, and mentally pictured hands carrying him under his shoulders, under his spine, and the back of his knees. I told the robes to keep him steady, and about a foot away. I kept staring at my blinking mana pool.

Thankfully, [Float] was still active on my robes. I pushed off the floor and started walking on air. Slowly at first. Corwen came after me, suspended, silent, just a few paces of golden leash between us.

We made it past the first two rows of destroyed shelves before the leading Frollart jumped at us. It leapt through the air and attacked the tether. The tether blinked.

“No, no, no. Leave us alone.”

But they didn’t leave us alone. Suddenly, dozens of Frollarts were trying to jump from the tallest shelves they could at us.

So we went as fast as I could push it. Which tonight was a problem. The spell was willing, my body was not. Still, Corwen followed, and I did my best to keep us away from the Frollarts. Behind us, they were dropping off shelves and hitting the floor running. I had no spells left to throw at them. With my massive pool of 2 mana, I could maybe light a candle, if I had one.

Another one leapt. It came off a shelf to my left, all knuckles and tiny feet. It aimed at the golden line between me and Corwen, and chomped through it. The tether blinked again, like an old lighting enchantment on its last legs. Somewhere behind my ribs, a small spike of pain flared. And I realized what had happened. The Frollart had eaten a mana. Just a single one, but I felt it leave through the tether.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Had they been doing that the entire time? I couldn’t tell, but I wasn’t missing any extra mana. Or was it only hurting Corwen before for some reason?

“New rule!” I shouted. “Nobody touches the leash!”