Chaos Descending Read Online Free PDF Page B

hoped the rumors wouldn’t ruin the surprise of telling his father that Brianna was pregnant. Still, he didn’t have to worry long. When the man laid his child in Zollin’s arms, he could feel the poor baby’s temperature. The delicate skin was incredibly hot to the touch. Brianna’s internal temperature was always high, but her skin felt supple and warm. The baby’s skin felt thin and papery, the heat radiating from the poor child’s body like embers after a fire.
    Zollin closed his eyes and summoned his power. The magic stirred deep within him. When he had first learned to use magic, even the simplest of spells exhausted him, but in time he’d learned to build a magical containment around the deep reservoir of power that both shielded his physical body from the strain of his magic and kept his power from resonating to other magical users. The heat of his healing spell felt good as it flowed through him and into the baby. He immediately felt the foreign organisms attacking the poor child. They were incredibly tiny, yet they spread through the baby’s entire body, leaching the life from the defenseless child's vital organs.
    His magic acted like a net, filtering the sickness out of the baby’s body. It was slow work, but not too arduous. Once he had the sickness contained, he turned the baby onto its stomach and caused the tiny child to vomit. The baby had been lethargic, but once it spit up the sickness, which looked almost like blood, it began to cry. Zollin put the child on his shoulder, ignoring the concern on the parents’ faces, and let his magic sweep through the baby again. The fever was already diminishing on its own, but Zollin gave the organs and muscles a magical boost. Then he healed the child’s skin, erasing the bumps with his mind to ensure they didn’t leave any scars.
    “Here you go,” Zollin said, handing the child back to its parents. It had stopped crying and was looking around the crowd happily.
    “You did it,” the father said.
    Zollin nodded.
    “He healed our baby!” the father shouted, holding his child up.
    “It was nothing, really,” Zollin said. “Please don’t make a scene. Take your child home.”
    The crowd, which had grown as Zollin worked, parted and the little family left the market. Zollin turned back to the vendor and picked up his order of salted meat. He still needed cheese, butter, some herbs, and a few vegetables that weren’t growing in his own garden, but he decided he would wait until the crowd broke up. He thanked the vendor and hurried away.
    The Valley Inn looked almost like it had when he had first come to the lower range of the Northern Highlands with Quinn, Brianna, and Mansel. They had been running for their lives then, banking on the winter snows to seal the passes and keep the wizards of the Torr at bay for the season. The Valley Inn had been his first home in Brighton’s Gate. It was still a place of shelter and the regular meeting place when Zollin came to see his father.
    Quinn had built a small home at the edge of town, but it was little more than a workshop with a bed. He spent most of his evenings at the inn, which was the most popular gathering place for the townspeople. Zollin slipped into the large—almost sprawling—building’s common room. The Valley Inn was a simple structure, with a low roof and a wing of comfortable guest rooms. The central part of the inn was a broad common room with long tables and a massive fireplace at one end. The kitchen and storage rooms occupied one wing, and a barn was situated just behind the main structure.
    Ollie, the innkeeper’s wife, was busy in the kitchen, and her husband Buck was in the middle of a hushed conversation with a group of townsfolk. They sat near the fireplace which was bright and cheery, their heads close together as they leaned across the table with mugs of ale held close to their chests. Zollin moved to his usual place on the far side of the common room. He sat facing the door, and