Free The Silence of Medair by Andrea K. Höst Page B

looked at the students with a humorous eye "– were somehow to successfully fumble out the casting, I doubt that I alone would be able to break it.  I see you smile, whether with derision or disbelief, I do not care to speculate.  But simply put, if I were to cast a geas, it would take at least three of me to break it, perhaps four.  Thus I have gathered seven together and we shall overwhelm by force of numbers."
    "Please, Sir," said one of the students, a snub-nosed youth with merry eyes.  "What's the geas making her do?"
    "Manners!" snapped one of the mages, cuffing the boy, which he bore with the grin of one who was willing to take the rough so long as he got what he wanted.
    "Would assuaging young Bartley's curiosity be too much to ask, Miss ar Corleaux?" an Selvar asked.
    Medair summoned a light-hearted amusement she did not truly feel.  "Oh, it's ensuring that I don't spend two nights in a row in the same bed," she said, to the amazed delight of the youngsters.  "By forcing me to travel almost continuously," she added.  "I wouldn't be overly surprised if I were in the Korgan Lands by the end of Summer, the rate I'm going."
    She laughed with them, as the mages each took up a position at the points of the star.  Then she sent a silent prayer to Farak.  This would work, and she would be free to go her own way.
    "Now we shall test the mettle of the geas' caster," said an Selvar.  "The first step is to make the power of the spell visible.  This is a standard task, but you might wish to watch how we begin melding our power as we perform it.  Miss ar Corleaux, it would be best if you left the charm I gave you outside the star."
    Medair removed the necklace and deposited it and her satchel over a chalked line.  She watched with interest and admiration as they smoothly opened a flow of power between each point of the star.  It was a delicate task, this melding.  She had seen it often fail, but these six performed the feat with ease, and soon she began to glow.  The geas manifested not as the snake she had imagined coiled about her spine, but as a network of silvery lines beneath her skin, patterned like veins.
    "Now, a geas can be badly cast in numerous ways," an Selvar continued.  "It could be poorly 'claused', as we call it, allowing the 'chanted person to merely perform the letter of the task and not the spirit.  It could even allow the 'chanted person to kill the caster, which would be unfortunate – from the caster's point of view.  It could be sloppily set, but as we can see, this geas has hold of Miss ar Corleaux very thoroughly indeed and I assume, since she needs it broken, that she has not been able to escape the punitive effects.  What we will do now is simply pull the power out, as if we were uprooting a weed.  The question is how extensive is the root system and whether we are strong enough to pull it up.  It is always best to use more magi than is likely needed in a geas-breaking, so that much energy is not expended to no profit."  The adept smiled at Medair.  "This won't hurt," he promised, then signalled to the other mages.
    It was fascinating to watch.  Lines of force erupted from the six mages as they began a low-voiced chant.  The power lines curled about Medair, then attached themselves to the silver beneath her skin, which began to lift out of her flesh.  It was a curious sensation, a little as if someone were pulling out hairs all over her body, but, as promised, without pain.  The magi gradually increased the pull and she watched their faces, noting that concentration had turned to a more intense effort.  The pull on her decreased and she felt distinctly lop-sided.
    Then the lines of force snapped.  Medair staggered, pain blooming behind her eyes, and she lifted a hand even as two of the magi fell over.  The audience burst into noise, a confused babble of surprise.  Covering her eyes, Medair saw wriggling lights and tried to block it all out.
    A touch at her elbow preceded