(Rough night for writing: it took me nearly fifteen minutes to churn out the first 300 words... but yay me for working even when I'm exhausted... ::pats self and also offers up a piece of chocolate, which self gladly accepts::)
He had released her- but where? And there was no one left to ask- or rather, there were plenty of creatures to ask, but I couldn’t ask them, because my current spell, which would dwindle and fade to nothing within the hour, only allowed me to speak with insipid butterflies and bloody cockchafers- all of which were dead. Lightning flashed overhead, turning everything to stark black-and-white.
Thunder roared almost immediately, and I let out a scream of rage in return, the two sounds blending together so that it seemed to me the very elements shared my grief. The sound was still ringing in my ears when the next bolt of lightning snaked down out of the sky to skitter along the magical perimeter I’d thrown up. The thunder roared again- and the Shield, overwhelmed with raw power, blew apart, letting the rain and wind rush back in. I screamed again into the darkness, pummeling the tree with my fists until my knuckles were raw. It was a waste of blood, but I didn’t care: anything was better than remaining still when I wanted to tear the world apart.
Think, Skovy, think! She can’t be far- he couldn’t have carried her far, because he wasn’t that strong, and he was dying. I took a shuddering breath and looked around the little wood again. She would be sheltering from the rain- rain was unpleasant and potentially deadly when every drop was bigger than your head- but would she be in a tree? Under a leaf? Had she covered the distance to the corn field?
I sat down on the now soaking earth, ignoring the rain that was rapidly plastering my hair to my head. There was nothing for it- I would have to craft a Greater Spell- one that would allow me to understand every creature. But a crafting of that size… I dropped my face into my hands. It would take months.
For a brief moment I considered just staying right where I was, and going over every last inch of the copse on my hands and knees. Surely it would take less time for me to locate her doing that, than it would for me to craft the spell? But… what if she wasn’t even there anymore? She’d been taken by a toad, by a stream, by a thrice-damned cockchafer! Who knew what else might get it into their mind to take her? No, crafting the spell was the better path, painful as it would be to let all that time pass.
But if she was still here… I must think of some sign to leave her, to let her know that I would return, and that she should wait for me… but what?