A Touch of Magic Read Free Page A

of him, but controlled and icy. He stood there trembling, feeling it build up to murderous levels. The rest of the world seemed to melt away as Bobby advanced, until it was just the two of them alone in the universe. A light was growing behind Randall’s eyes, filling his mind, filling his body. He felt powerful, invincible, shielded from any harm by the light and his rage.
     Bobby halted a pace away from Randall, sword at the ready. Breathing heavily, he called out “Do you give up?”
     Bobby was the reason everyone was laughing at him. Bobby didn’t even want to be a soldier in the first place! It just wasn’t fair ! The light within Randall had grown to bursting, calling on him to destroy his foe, and take his rightful place as victor on the battlefield. Telling him that his victory was at hand, and that it was Bobby who would be yielding. Randall ground out between clenched teeth “Never!”
    Bobby’s eyes widened in fear, and he flinched back, reflexively swinging his sword in a wild arc. It seemed to move in slow motion. Randall barely noticed it, his attention held by Bobby’s reaction.
    Why does he look so afraid? Randall wondered.
    The strange light in his head coalesced into a pinpoint of bright purpose, focused on Bobby. It was ripe, ready to be used to do his bidding.
    I’m supposed to do something now, Randall thought. Something’s supposed to happen.
    And then Bobby’s practice sword collided with his temple, driving all consciousness from him.
    * * *
    “Randall, wake up!”
    Someone was shaking him, but he didn’t want to get up. His bed was too warm and comfortable. But the voice wouldn’t go away.
    “Hey, Randall! Open your eyes! Are you okay? Oh, please be all right!” the voice said, sounding scared.
    Randall cracked open his eyes, which was a colossal mistake. Sunlight blinded him, and pain exploded in his head. He rolled over onto his side and emptied his stomach onto the grass. After he had finished throwing up the last of his breakfast, he moaned and rolled onto his back. His memory came back to him in a rush.
    “You hit me,” he accused.
    “Well, I didn’t expect you to just stand there and let me!” Bobby started, defensively.
    “Don’t scream,” Randall said weakly. “Head hurts.”
    He heard Harlowe’s voice, also nearby. “He’ll be fine, kid. He took a good whack, but that’s what helmets are for. Get him somewhere cool, and get him somethin’ to drink. That was some swing! If you want to come back tomorrow so I can show you some more stuff, get here early.” Randall heard him walk away.
    Just great, Randall thought. They already like him better.
    “Hey Randall, you heard the man. We gotta get you up and something to drink. I was really scared for you,” Bobby said.
    “Too hot in this armor. Gotta get it off” Randall replied.
    “Randall, you’ve been out for a while. They already got you out of it. C’mon Randall. Please get up.” Bobby begged.
    Randall groaned and started trying to lever himself up. The pounding in his head threatened him with another wave of nausea, but he eventually sat up with Bobby’s help. This time, he only tried to open his eyes a little bit, and found that he could manage it if he kept his eyes squeezed down to slits. His vision was blurry, but he could tell most of the crowd had already moved on now that the spectacle was over. There was no sight of Melinda. That was just as well; he didn’t really feel up to her derision at the moment. I’d just as soon never see her again , he thought. I wish that blow had killed me.
    Bobby helped Randall to his feet. They stumbled together a short distance before Randall had another wave of nausea hit him, and he dropped to his knees, giving in to the urge to empty his stomach. Bobby helped him back to his feet, urging him to keep walking. They eventually made it to Frank’s Inn.
    Bobby steered them toward one of the only empty tables in the place, and ordered a mug of ‘the Cure’, a