Pursued - Entire book

Chapter 13

Klair barely kept his rage in check as he ran from the town. Only after he passed the city markers did he sweep an arm before him and, with a curse, downed a huge pine. The great trunk shattered under the force of his magic. Splinters went flying. A companion tree met a similar fate.

Klair's stomach rumbled and he ignored it.

He ran into the forest that neighbored the road, marking his path with debris. Bigger trees disintegrated and stones went flying. The air filled with havoc as birds and creatures fled from the tempest. Klair continued running. A pounding in his head rattled his thoughts and blackness tugged at his mind but he pushed himself on. He fell to his knees and vomited what little remained in his stomach onto the forest floor. A few dry heaves followed.

Clenched fists and jaw did little to contain the rage within him. After a few moments he dragged himself back to his feet. The woods were silent, their creatures terrified. Dust and leaves of fallen braches floated to the ground.

He started running again while branches tore at his arms and legs and he answered in turn with further destruction.

When a small pine made the mistake of being in his way, Klair gouged the earth with a slap of his hand uprooting the tree totally. His scalp buzzed and he let the irritation fuel his wrath. He fought the looming unconsciousness. Suddenly he stopped within a small and beautiful grove. Very methodically, he slammed his palm toward each tree encircling him. Through a succession of rotations his magic downed them, making the circle wider and wider.

No longer able to hold back the sickness, he bent over but had only dry heaves.

Klair dropped to his knees and with a mighty slap, hit the earth. The ground buckled so fiercely he toppled over and several more trees tumbled. He yelled at the sky. He grabbed his hair and began fiercely yanking.

"Sand you, Thorn, Sand you!" he cursed.

The face of the Constable came to mind. "Sand you too, Trenny!"

Strands went flying and he scratched so hard his scalp and fingers bled. Klair bellowed, frantically looking for a new target. He gripped his ears with bloodied hands against a bird's loud screech in fright. Hee fell to the ground with a yell. Dirt caked his wet face. He gripped a collection of twigs so tightly they crumbled. Klair forced himself to stand but couldn't see clearly and stumbled.

Certainly he had enough fury to fuel magic without fainting—Fight it! Fight!

He crumpled to the earth as unconsciousness finally claimed him.

*****

The sun of late afternoon shadowed the forest when he woke. He rubbed at dirt of his shirt and his head throbbed when he tried to move. His body shook. This happened nearly every time he used too much magic. He had intentionally pushed the limit as far as he could go.

Useless magic!

Getting up, Klair stumbled forward, forcing himself to ignore the shakes and fever as he took turns between running and walking. He moved further and further away from Merrsain and throwing an occasional magical blows to shatter a few more trees. Dry heaves were much more painful than wet but anger fueled him on.

Let the magic kill him for all he cared.

He intended to appease his anger without further unconsciousness getting in the way. Build up my endurance, mother? See my endurance!

He usually traveled in the denser parts of unoccupied forest to release his anger fully.

By evening, hunger pinched his belly; he regretted not taking one of the parcels of supplies from Merrsain.

On the dusty paths of the deep woods, he searched for edible roots. As he reached deep into a crevice something bit him. "Sands," Klair cursed. He twisted his hand to shake off the sting which resulted with a spit of swirling dust rising from the ground. He leaned back, rubbing grit from his eyes.

Did he just create a dust devil?

His second try was intentional. Another abrupt twist of his hand and yes, a second twist of wind sprang from the ground spitting dirt. The third dust devil rose to a good six steps in height and carried small twigs and dust. When it slammed into him, it coated his entire frame with dirt.

Why didn't he know that fancy trick when he needed it against Trenny?

The second day's tirade wasn't as intense as before and only determined pigheadedness spurred him on. Late in the day he crumpled to the earth in exhaustion.

Rage continued to consume him for the first two days. He sought specific targets while he traveled a slight distance off a road he found. He narrowed his focus with spouts of concentration. The targets of his wrath became fellow travelers along the road. He placed pebbles precariously under a foot, tripping more than one man. Off the trails, he found an occasional homestead that acquired mysterious holes in their storage sheds with the contents of their wares spilled out to the elements. Klair only had to concentrate, shove his hands forward to make certain tasks reality.

He walked deeper into the woods to pass out.

Klair woke up later to continue the tirade.

He stumbled into the open yard, head aching, and lashed out. Part of the wooded corral crumpled beneath the magical thrust, then he waved his hand again, and it collapsed into a pile of splinters and sticks. The cow and goats ran in panicked circles across from the open gap.

Their ragged cries summoned a shout from the barn and the sound of running feet.

Klair pressed further into the woods.

Some homesteads, he skipped entirely and later in the day, he selected fences to destroy. Once, he froze the hooves of a horse in the mud formed so hard the farmer would have to use a pick to dig it out. Streams were clogged by large stones redirecting their paths.

Most of the damage in the dense forest was majestic trees shattered to kindling.

Waking up from the latest moment of unconsciousness Klair remained sprawled on the ground, staring up into the sky. He could no longer ignore the guilt gnawing at him. How many innocent people's home had he damaged? He shoved the thought away.

He played the gathering at the assembly hall in his mind. He wished he could recall individual details. "Ban both," came to mind. Even Loginna rejects me. I thought we might eventually get together. She was just pretend, only interested in another guy bedding her. Glad she never got what she wanted.

His privates twitched in complaint.

Maken, the man he feared the most, had been the only one who tried to be fair.

685","8�2�R wt