Far to the north, at the edge of the civilized world, where not even the Lords of

  Darkness traveled, stood Arlen Castle. Prisoners were sent there under the protection

  of air and water magicians. They were expected to sit in their cells for most of their

  sentence.

  The rest of the time they were expected to defend the prison from the snow demons

  that habitually came south.

  Arnold Cirrus grimaced as the bell was sounded above him. They needed him to fight.

  He didn’t want to but he didn’t see any way to get back to Grimhild without doing his

  part and lulling the guards into complacency. If he were to get killed during the

  action, the guards would write him off and a letter would be sent to the ministry to

  inform anyone that he had perished in the carrying out of his sentence.

  He wondered how many were out there this time.

  Arnold had learned the runes for air magicians. He knew dozens of spells that he

  could use. He typically picked a spot where the snow demons had to bunch together.

  Then he would use tornado and throw as many as he could reach with the spell back

  where they started.

  The others frequently dropped their own spells on the battlefield. He didn’t quite have

  an accurate count but thought there were at least three more air magicians. If he could

  get some kind of enchanted cloak, he could fly home in a few days.

  He doubted anyone would help him with that. Not having a cloak would cause the

  prisoner in question to freeze in his cell. It was doubtful anyone would give him their

  only protection for him to try to cross an unknown number of miles of ice.

  And if he did escape, and was recaptured, he would be made an example of for the

  next people who wanted to get away from Arlen.

  An example was the last thing he wanted to be.

  The prisoners were assembled in the covered courtyard by the main gate. Arnold took

  a place at the back of the formation. He wanted everyone else to charge out and start

  throwing their magic around. That would confuse where he was, and what he was

  doing.

  Once they started doing that, the next step was to do something about the bracelet on

  his arm. The runes were supposed to dampen the magician’s power. It was a specific

  lock to a specific bar. He had a way around it once he got started.

  The main problem was evading the guards and anyone they called to stop him while

  he was crossing the white expanse to get to the south. He didn’t have any food and

  would have to hunt as he went. That was bound to slow him down.

  Once he started on his plan, he would have to fly fast and low to get to where he

  needed to go.

  The one thing he didn’t know was if the bracelet was keyed to his other magic. If it

  was, his plan was halted before he could get started carrying it out.

  He would have to fall back on his secondary plan, and that one was a lot more risky

  than what he had come up with for his first plan.

  Arnold steeled himself as he reviewed his plan. First, he had to do just enough to

  make the snow demons and the guards think he was committed. Too little and the

  demons would try to snag him, too much and he would be recalled to go back to his

  cold cell.

  He stepped outside and drew on the air to block the wind. It was his servant, but if he

  let it run amuck, he would freeze before he was done with his task.

  So he stood in a sea of calm, the snow and ice a blanket of white except where his

  fellow prisoners had walked out ahead of him.

  He readied his defense, spreading out his sphere of influence around him. He noted

  the feeling of the other magicians doing the same. He hoped none of them held his

  escape against him.

  He summoned the largest whirlwind he could keep under control. He was in the rear

  of the formation with magicians on either side. Dropping down that much wind on an

  unprepared population sent people flying through the air with screams.

  Some of the snow demons had also been caught in the wind and had been ripped apart

  and scattered.

  Time for the second part, he told himself. He couldn’t just freeze under his cover until

  someone blew it away. He had to take care of his business.

  He activated his hidden magic. There was a moment when he thought it wouldn’t

  work, that his spell would be stopped by the bracelet. But then he was surrounded in

  white feathers. He threw himself on the ice and slid away from the confrontation.

  Arnold kept the whirlwind going as much as he could as he used his water magic to

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  slide along the ice. If he left the bracelet behind when he changed, then he couldn’t

  be tracked, or have his magic blocked by the authorities.

  Getting south where it was warmer would please him. Expending energy on just

  keeping himself warm had been draining him. Now all he had to do was go south,

  hunt or find towns who needed someone that controlled the air for food, and maybe

  join a convoy for mutual protection.

  He let the wind die down. He didn’t know how long he had. He expected flying

  magicians to be looking for him as soon as they gathered the rest of the prisoners. He

  imagined there was a small chance they would think he was dead after what he had

  done. He didn’t want to bet his life on it.

  The guards might have seen him making his escape as an ice bird. The only thing he

  could do was pour the rest of his power into his sliding and hope to find cover before

  the hounds caught up with him.

  Some of the guards had a spell ability to locate things in their sphere of influence. He

  didn’t know how far that was, and he didn’t want to find out because they had caught

  up with him while he was running.

  He relaxed some when the prison fell out of his sphere of influence. He didn’t know

  if the guards could match him, and he needed to keep making time. Eventually, he

  might be beyond their reach.

  He didn’t know how long that would take, and he still had no idea how they were

  going to try to catch up with him. He needed to reach civilization where he could hide

  among other magicians.

  Maybe he could pose as a teacher at Grimhild. He didn’t know what he would need

  for that, but he expected that he looked different enough no one would know him as

  long as he kept his face down and his voice muffled.

  It wouldn’t be the first time he had impersonated an authority.

  He needed to rest. He looked ahead. There had to be something he could do with his

  limited water and greater general air magic to give himself a hiding place until he

  could recover some of his strength.

  He was almost at the end of his transformation. He would have to change back and

  walk the rest of the way if he wanted to keep going.

  Arnold doubted he could reach the edge of the ice plain, but he knew he wasn’t going

  to be able to do it without his magic. He needed to stop and hide.

  He let the transformation fade. He climbed to his feet and looked around. Stilling the

  wind made the air feel warmer but he knew he could still freeze to death before he got

  clear of the ice plain.

  Arlen was off his sphere of influence. Hopefully the guards had no idea what

  happened to him. Better yet, his restraining bracelet was gone. If he was recaptured,

  they might put in an additional enchantment against his spell of water alteration.

  With his mastery of the air, he could put up a fight against all but a few magicians in

  the realm. He was not confident in dealing with the powerhouses that could be asked

  to deal with him.

  Before he could worry about the future, he had to rest and regain his strength. Once

  off the ice plain, he could worry about any future plan he might concoct.

  He needed to sleep, and get cover from the cold. He needed a hiding place to avoid

  any searchers from the prison. He had fled south. Everyone who escaped fled south.

  The cold beat most of them before they could get half as far as he had.

  His transformation might have obscured his movement, but he couldn’t count on that.

  They might send flying searchers after him. If he could elude them, his chances of

  reaching the warmer climes bettered for him.

  Arnold looked at his backtrail. He sent out a wind to scour the imprint of his altered

  body from the ice and snow. He nodded when his tracks were notationally covered.

  He knew the right combination of magics could still find him, but he had done the

  basic steps.

  He concentrated on the spot where he stood. The air drilled down to form a hole in

  the ice. He dropped down and used his magic to cover the hole with ice so it wouldn’t

  be obvious what he had done from the air. He hardened the walls of his lair so it

  wouldn’t collapse on him while drying the floor. He laid down, wrapping his cloak

  around him.

  It wasn’t perfect, and when he woke up, he would be hungry. It also gave him a place

  to sleep until he was discovered, or the search was called off. When he woke up, he

  could continue his journey south.

  He closed his eyes in the dark and thought about his route. He needed to make it to

  a travel hub to make his journey easier to Grimhild. That meant blending in and

  asking directions. At least without the bracelet, he could use his full power if he

  needed to do that on the road.

  He doubted common bandits had been eradicated in the years he had been

  imprisoned.

  He let himself drift off and dream about the ice around him. He didn’t know how long

  it would take to reach the end of the ice. He knew he could get there with a little

  patience. He had crossed most of the land mass on his own when he was younger. He

  could do it again.

  He had more control now than when he was younger. His sphere of influence had

  stretched across a city at one point. He had lost a little while imprisoned, but he still

  had enough for something.

  Air travel was the fastest way south, but he would be seen if he did that. He might be

  able to pass himself off as a weak alter with his bird form. He could save the air

  magic for when he was exposed and vulnerable.

  Arnold dreamed of the court where he had been sentenced to Arlen Castle. He

  dreamed of the man who had handed down the sentence. The man was in Grimhild,

  and he was going to meet him.

  Then there would be words between them.

  Sharp words.

  The light of the sun woke Arnold. Nothing had disturbed his sleep. He felt better not

  being inside the grim walls of his dungeon. It was time to go.

  He sent out a blade of wind and punched a hole in the top of his cave. He leaped to

  the surface and looked around. He didn’t sense the air moving which would have

  been an indicator of another air magician flying around.

  He was hungry as predicted, but he could travel a long ways before it crippled him.

  He covered up his hiding spot the best he could, before starting south. If he ever had

  to escape again, he could use it for a bolt hole if no one found it. He decided to leap

  as far as he could south. That meant an initial push into the air and just letting the

  wind high in the sky carry him in the direction it wanted. The only use of magic

  would be the initial jump, and then the landing cushion.

  It was safer than a constant output that could be detected by any magician with the

  right skill.

  Arnold summoned his magic and disappeared high in the sky.