by T J Kelly
A thought about how many times I had been rendered unconscious over the last few months flitted through my head. So maybe not safer so much as the fact I had a better chance to stay alive if my family and friends surrounded me.
Shaking off my darkening thoughts, I concentrated on the present and my best friend. We tucked our plates into the sink in the kitchen, just down the hall and around the corner from the dining chamber. It was my favorite room in the castle besides my workshop. My aunt stocked it with both ancient and modern appliances, including every ingenious device my uncle’s Laurus ancestors purchased over the last thousand years or so.
The old wooden countertops glowed with the patina of ages past, dark and worn and wonderful. I was always running my hands along them because they felt so good. I could probably spend all my time in that kitchen, but duty called.
◆◆◆
Armageddon and Peony were sitting together in the study, their knees touching, heads close as they worked on a spell. I loved the contrast they presented, an outrageously tall man with black and silver hair married to a petite blond woman with radiant blue eyes. My aunt’s embroidery hoop lay nearby. The buzz of magic surrounded them like a cloud. I was going to ask what they were up to, but before we could even greet them, Mort popped straight into the room in a flash of light.
Transitioning into a crowded area could have been a disaster if done incorrectly. He must have been in a hurry since it wasn’t that long of a drive from the front gates. Nobody could transfer into the castle unless they were already on the property. Another of my uncle’s security precautions.
“Wow, Mort. Living dangerously,” I said. Besides transferring into a room full of people, he also wore no vest or belt pouch, which meant he wasn’t dressed for battle the way he usually was. Instead, he went casual, wearing jeans and a forest green button shirt that made his eyes glow. It was different enough from how I normally saw him that I realized he was pretty fine for an old guy.
Mort's eyes narrowed. “Well, hello there to you, too, Lady Lia. You look nice today. For a pipsqueak barely out of diapers.”
Peter and Armageddon choked back their laughter. I scowled. I had forgotten to shield my thoughts from Mort, who I recently learned possessed the ability to read the minds of the unaware. After he secretly used that skill to manage my training, of course.
Not that I was complaining. Mortem Impii, or Wicked Death, was the best teacher on the planet if anyone wanted to know how to fight dirty. Which I did.
My aunt glided across the room and took the bundles Mort brought with him. I hadn’t even noticed his hands were full of brown paper-wrapped packages. It was the first time I had ever seen him without his battle gear, and it had really thrown me off. Where he had been that he felt he didn’t need it?
“Thanks, Mort,” Peony said. She hustled towards the door. I loved how energetic she always was. My aunt had so many things going on, she would probably have been drowning in them if she wasn’t so capable. She caught a lot of flack in society about it, since most of magicians valued the cool, sophisticated look of boredom to her active interest. Even though she was a member of my family, I had heard all the gossip about her anyway. People thought she was a little dim. Or weak. Just because she didn’t act like a snot the way they did.
Boy, were they wrong. And I was pretty sure she was as powerful as my uncle. But they didn’t spread that around. No need to put her on the Council’s radar, too. They were already suspicious of the rest of us. Although, she was the only female member of the Irregulars, besides myself, so they should have caught the clue bus. There weren’t any stupid or weak agents in my uncle’s employ.
“No problem, Peony,” Mort said. The tone in his voice made my eyes narrow. I hated feeling left out, and it was obvious they were studiously not talking about something. My aunt left with the packages as Mort flopped down on a chair, breathing a sigh of relief.
“Rough trip?” Armageddon asked. He raised an eyebrow.
“Yes. It doesn’t get easier. But at some point, I think she’ll come around.” Mort didn’t indicate who he was referring to. So annoying.
“She might. Then again, we expected her to before and look what happened,” Armageddon said.
“True,” Mort answered.
My gaze swung back and forth between the two men as I followed their cryptic conversation. They had to be messing with me. And it was working. My curiosity was off the charts.
“Besides, you know she won’t hurt you as long as you’re unarmed.” Were Armageddon’s eyes glittering with humor? I thought maybe they were.
Mort nodded gravely, but I was positive I saw a twinkle in his green eyes, too. “That’s true,” Mort said. “It doesn’t matter if she’s softening. She’ll still cry foul if I showed up with even one spell. And then what would Peony do?”
“What indeed?” Armageddon asked. “I must think about that. I loathe monopolies.”
Mort nodded absently.
Before I rose to the bait and asked what and who and why, Peter butted in and ruined my timing.
“What’s on the roster, boss?” he asked. The corners of his lips twitched. That rat. He diverted the conversation on purpose.
“It looks like a slow week,” my uncle answered. “I’ve got a few investigations running, but we’re focusing on teaching Lia self-control.”
I sighed. I had assumed when I connected with my magic and won the competition to retain ownership of my family’s company, I could finally live my life as an ordinary magician. Instead, my magic turned out to be a real problem. Their focus was still on me.
And I was getting sick of being in the spotlight. Not that I blamed them. A small, silver star necklace was the only thing that stood between me, my thoughts, and the obliteration of the entire planet. That was enough to keep anyone on their toes.
Mort laughed at my disgruntled scowl. “Cheer up, Lia. You can take out your angst on me in the practice ring. I’ll teach you another trick for throwing a larger opponent. Peony particularly likes this one,” he said.
My aunt was shorter than I was, so whatever she liked would probably be a lot of fun on top of being useful. After I mastered it. Unfortunately, learning something new usually meant that I would spend a few hours in the infirmary, sore everywhere and possibly with broken bones. Yet I couldn't wait to do it anyway.
They were driving me insane.
Mort cracked up. Yeah, I guess I had broadcast that thought instead of hiding it. Whatever.
Peony bustled back to collect us, and we made our way to the dining chamber. Armageddon eyeballed me when he saw there were only a couple of mini peach cobblers left on the buffet table. I gave him a cheeky grin.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice those shortbread crumbs on your sleeve,” I said, excusing my early morning buffet raid. “I know you took the last shipment.”
My uncle winced. “I thought I brushed them all off. I better ask for help next time I want to hide evidence from you.”
I winked and turned to make myself a sandwich. I couldn’t stand to eat a traditional breakfast in the mornings, and the castle chefs always had a wide variety of foods available. Magicians were often on strange schedules and ate what their appetites demanded, not what convention dictated. Especially the Irregulars.
“So what’s in the packages?” Peter asked as we took a seat. Bless him. I didn’t want to be the first to crack. Not during the week my uncle said they were teaching me self-control, anyway.
“They’re the ingredients I need for a spell I think will help Lia,” Armageddon answered. He looked so pathetic as he stared at the empty dessert platters. My heart softened and I slipped the mini cobbler I had hidden under an extra slice of bread while he had his face turned away. “I want her to be able to sleep without inadvertently doing magic. Relying on mechanical charms like her necklace is dangerous.”
Because my necklace could get lost. The chain could break. It could slip off while I was asleep. An enemy could take it. Anything like t
hat would be a disaster. I had tried for so long to access my power. Now, I was desperate to put the lid back on. It was like a cosmic joke.
“Please don’t tell me I have to drink something nasty,” I said. My uncle knew I would do anything to keep from hurting everyone around me, but that didn’t mean I wanted to choke down something disgusting. Or worse, slimy. Ugh.
“Nothing so unfortunate, niece of mine. This spell will take a long while to create, but once it’s complete, I’ll toss it over your head. It’ll help you learn to control the space between thought and reality. No indigestion required.” It said a lot about the nature of magic that I was so relieved to hear that.
After a quick knock, a messenger entered the room. She was tall and lanky, probably around eighteen or nineteen. She took her responsibilities seriously, made obvious by the way she walked so confidently despite my uncle's intimidating reputation.
Mort was my uncle’s partner and second-in-command for the Irregulars. That meant by contract, he could collect or pay business debts and read all messages. He was the one who handed the messenger a small charm to thank her for her work and accepted the creamy white envelope.
Magicians rarely tipped with money. Magic complicated the rules governing employment, caretaking, and income. Merely handing a few dollars to somebody working in an official capacity could butt up against some of the harsher spellwork that bonded their contracts.
It was especially dangerous when interacting with messengers, who were usually new apprentices and inexperienced enough to fall for all sorts of tricks that crueler magicians liked to pull. Handing over mechanical spells and charms was acceptable payment, and far easier for the messenger to tell the difference between dangerous and beneficial.
For instance, Mort handed the young woman a Fleet-foot charm. Not only would she be able to travel faster for the month it lasted, but she would recover twice as fast from the effects of the transitions between one location and another. That was better than a twenty-dollar bill any day.
“It’s for you,” Mort told my uncle. Armageddon hastily finished his breakfast. He started gulping his food down as soon as the messenger arrived, probably assuming the message would be for him and would take him away from his meal.
That happened a lot. Powerful magicians could be petty, and they would often hold off until an inconvenient time to send a message. Or start a war.
I suspected that was why we were supposed to ascend into our magic on our seventeenth birthday. They were so enamored by the idea of ruining a good thing that instead of having a big party to celebrate reaching legal adulthood, we had to dress in formal clothes and perform the Ascension Ceremony. It really sucked.
Armageddon glanced at me. “I’ll try to be back in time for our practice session,” he said. “If not, Mort will handle it.”
My uncle discovered the dessert I had smuggled onto his plate. He winked at me as he scooped it up and popped it into his mouth before heading out. Mort handed Armageddon the letter. My uncle swerved to give Peony a quick kiss on the cheek, then disappeared in a flash.
Peony sighed. I glanced her way, and she smiled. “No rest for the wicked, right?”
“Right,” I responded as I stood. I reached over and gave my aunt a little squeeze before clearing away my dishes.
She and my uncle had been planning some much-needed alone time together. Armageddon had come for me when my parents died, straight from a long-term assignment. Then we spent months frantically training for the trials and keeping me safe. He and Peony didn’t get to spend much time together even though he was around the castle more than usual. I felt bad about my role in that.
I hoped my uncle wouldn't get dragged into another war or something. Magical corporations always tried to find a new way to steal market segments. That usually involved tons of negotiation and at least one or two outright battles, sucking up a lot of time. My aunt and uncle deserved a vacation.
Peter slipped out of the room at the same time I did. I turned to wave goodbye and saw Mort shake his head in response to something my aunt had asked silently. It made me wonder what she felt she couldn’t ask out loud.
CHAPTER THREE
Training Session
I almost made it to the top when a black boot swept my feet out from under me. Plunging down a short rock face, I hit the pond with an icy splash. What a lame way to start one of our training sessions.
“Got you again, kiddo,” my uncle said. He was still trying to keep things lighthearted. When I first arrived at Castle Laurus, he had concocted an entire strategy to keep me cheerful and upbeat. It had taken months to connect to my magic. In the meantime, I had been vulnerable to magical forces and the age-old battle between light and dark. And he didn’t want dark to win.
Back then, he didn't know I would ascend into my magic with a near-equal balance no matter what they did. It was the nature of Rector magic. But at least I managed to come in on the side of good. That was a relief to us all and one reason I was still alive. The Council had assassins on staff, and they would have made sure I didn’t stick around if they felt I was a danger to them.
Of course, nobody was all that certain I wasn’t still a threat. The element of Dark always threatened to overwhelm me and tip my balance to the dark side. So my uncle continued his attempts to tease me into better moods. Either that, or he was trying to drive me insane. Some days, it was a tough call.
“You know how much I hate being in the water,” I said, trying not to let it annoy me. The worst part was getting wet while still fully clothed. Plus, I absolutely hated water in my ears. I wasn’t really angry or had a phobia or anything. I had spent a long time underwater during the trials to win back Rector Enterprises, and I just didn’t want to be reminded of it all again.
“But you’re so good at it,” Armageddon teased. “The drowned-rat look is cute on you, too.”
“Ha, ha,” I said. I tried not to roll my eyes, but it happened anyway.
“Come on, let’s take a breather. I’ll conjure up some hot chocolate with tons of whipped cream. We can talk strategy.” My uncle held his hand out, and I used it to steady myself as I climbed up the slippery bank. The pond was located at the center of the castle in the arboretum my aunt had designed to grow many of the herbs and flowers they used in the products for my uncle’s business, Laurus Commodities.
While my uncle magically raided the kitchen, I shuffled over to one of the benches lining the outer rim of the battlefield. Mort had helped me create what I thought of as a “moon module” on our practice grounds. We all decided that we liked it enough to use the structure as a practice dome for future mock battles. It was kind of ugly and positioned in the middle of the garden. But since it kept the damage to a minimum, Peony let it stand.
We had been training in a section of the module with rundown brick walls and large ponds and puddles when Armageddon knocked me down. I guess it was better than landing on a pile of bricks. My aunt had told him she didn’t want to treat me for another concussion. He must have decided landing in water would help avoid one.
I was suddenly dry. I looked over my shoulder and caught the light teal trace of the spell my uncle used to tug the water out of my clothes and back into the pond.
“Hey, thanks!” I said with a grin. He had even remembered to dry out my boots. I hated squishy footwear. “So how’s the search for a spell to help my self-control going?” Maybe he would give me more details.
Armageddon flopped down on the bench beside me. He held two large ceramic mugs with homemade whipping cream piled high above the rim, extra firm, exactly the way I liked it. He handed me the blue one. I didn't know how he knew it was my favorite, but that was always the one he gave me.
“We may have solved it. But it’s only temporary. I think if you have a chance to slow down for a few months, you’ll be able to work things out on your own.”
“Yeah. Maybe.” I wasn’t sure I believed that, but I would give it a try. It was that or accidentally destroy the world or something
. I tugged the handkerchief I always carried with me out of my vest pocket and wiped my mouth. I loved whipped cream, but I never managed to eat it without getting it all over my face.
“Come on,” Armageddon said as he set aside his mug and stood. “There are a few more techniques I wanted to squeeze in today before lunch. I think you may be sufficiently warm and dry to avoid catching a cold. If I get you sick on top of everything else, your aunt will never forgive me.”
I huffed a small laugh at that thought. Peony was terrifying when she was protecting the ones she loved. He was probably scared of what she would do. With good reason.
“I’ll be fine,” I said. “What are we working on now?”
“Stick-work. Staffs can help extend your reach, and most magicians don’t use them anymore.” We were taught basic staff training in the lower grades, but nobody really stuck with it. “That could be to your advantage.”
I nodded to myself. All the times someone had attacked me raced through my mind. A big stick would have been useful.
We arrived at a clearing near the center of the practice dome. Armageddon waved his hand, and the large boulders lining one side of the field shifted further to the side, widening the battle area. Then with a snap, two staffs appeared. He handed me the shorter one. Staff length depended on height. A shorter staff was better for control.
"Thanks," I said as I hefted it, checking the balance.
“Let’s run through the warm-up routine and the first ten forms. That will help me assess where your weaknesses are and work out a training schedule. I’ll have Mort pitch in on my busy days. He needs to know your skill level, too.”
“Nothing I've learned will be good enough to stop Mort,” I laughed. “I could be at expert level, and he’d still kick my butt.” I stretched, using the staff to stabilize myself as I tugged my foot behind me.
