“Wow,” Maggie whispered. “This is not like school back home.”
“Not like school anywhere in Malina.” Tammond smiled. “It was never really meant to be this way. The Wanderers were never meant to live all packed in together like this. But this is how we’ve survived. And for the younglings, it’s home.”
Twin boys around ten-years-old entered the Fireside, carrying trays of food. Both looked terrified, and after a silent battle, one moved forward and spoke so softly to Tammond Maggie could barely hear from three feet away.
“Abeyla told us to bring food to the spies.” The boy’s voice wavered as he spoke.
“They aren’t spies.” Tammond smiled kindly. “They are only travelers.”
“But they’re strangers,” the other twin squeaked, looking terrified at his own boldness.
“Child,” Bertrand said, bending down to look straight into the boy’s eyes. “Strangers can often be the best sorts of people. You see all those people?” Bertrand pointed to the people who peered in through the doors. “I assume you’ve known them your whole life.”
The boys nodded.
“You know their stories, you know their ways. But there is the rest of the world to greet. Many, many worlds to know. If you are terrified of anything you have never seen before, how are you to learn about any of it? The secret isn’t to be afraid of strangers. It’s to love the strangeness. Love the challenges it brings. Once you do that, you’ll see the dangers that are real. And how much safer will you be if you spend your time fighting those who mean to bring harm rather than those whom you simply do not know?”
“That was actually really good,” Maggie said.
“I am quite aware of my aptitude in dealing with children, Miss Trent.”
One of the twins passed his tray smilingly to Bertrand while the second shoved his in the direction of Maggie, not even bothering to look away from Bertrand as he did it.
“Children are the ones who will tell the most about what’s happening in a place,” Bertrand said. “They’ve been too busy learning to walk and speak to have perfected lying. I really should have found a way to bring you a book to write everything I say in, shouldn’t I? I am teaching you invaluable things every minute, and I sincerely doubt you are remembering all of it.”
“Thanks?” Maggie followed Bertrand to a table. He sat on one side and Tammond on the other.
“If you don’t mind,” Bertrand said, “I would love to hear more about Jax. Anyone who can be a threat to a group in such a remote location must be either very smart or very evil.”
Maggie stood looking at the two vacant seats left at the table. If she sat next to Tammond, she could be near him while she ate. But if she sat next to Bertrand, she could look at Tammond while she ate.
“Jax Cayde is a terrible combination of both,” Tammond said, his voice lower than Maggie had heard it before. As though he had aged ten years in saying that short sentence.
If she sat across from Tammond, he would watch her eat. She sat down next to him as he began to speak.
“It all began―”
“I do love a good origin of strife tale,” Bertrand said, not touching his food as he leaned forward, intently listening to Tammond.
“It all began,” Tammond said again, “long before I was born. In some ways, even before my mother was born. Magic has always been a part of our blood in Malina. The same as has the water and the wind. Some have more magic than others, but it has always been there, since the first stories of the river carrying our land forward. Magic has always been taught to all. It was a right of birth. The Wanderers were the teachers. Those most skilled would be trained at the university. When they had finished their studies, they would go out into Malina, stopping in villages and passing on what they had learned.” Tammond dug his fingers into his beautiful blond hair. “It may not seem like the best way to people who have seen the Land Beneath.”
“It does seem like there are rather large gaps for students to fall through if teachers are simply wandering through towns, teaching what they like.” Bertrand tented his fingers under his chin in his now-familiar thinking gesture.
“Every summer, all the Wanderers would travel back to the University. The greatest among them would teach classes. Maps were drawn up, deciding who would go where and what they would teach.” Tammond smiled. “It was planned to the last detail. All to be sure every person would have the opportunity to learn.”
Bertrand nodded, Maggie stared, and Tammond continued.
“Thirty years ago, Jax Cayde took up the position as head of the University. He had been one of the greatest Wanderers. Never afraid to climb high into the mountains if there was one person living in the snow who wanted to learn. Everyone was thrilled, thinking Jax would bring a new age of enlightenment to Malina.” Tammond paused, studying his hands, which were gripped tightly together on the table. “It began slowly at first. Not allocating the senior Wanderers to poor towns. Then not sending them as often. In his fifth year, he decided at the summer meet not to send any Wanderers at all. Teachers protested. Who were they to decide who should be able to learn the ways of magic? But Jax was persuasive. He told them the Wanderers were the most valuable resource in Malina and their lives couldn’t be risked traveling to remote areas. Children should be brought to learn at the University. Some Wanderers refused to obey, and Jax told them to do as they pleased, but they would receive no help from the University. Over the next year, those Wanderers vanished. Some killed by villagers, others disappearing in the wild. All of it seemed to confirm what Jax had told them. No one suspected he might be behind it.”
“Jax killed his own people?” Maggie asked, the rich orange pudding she had been eating suddenly tasting foul.
Tammond nodded, his knuckles turning white as he tightened his grip on the edge of the table. “But it took people a long time to see what was happening. Jax started by offering for all children to come to the University to study. But the cost of sending a child far from home and losing their labor was too much for most families to consider. The teachers tried to find ways to help, to make it easier for children to make the journey, offering to collect them themselves. But Jax wouldn’t allow it. And when a few poor children finally managed to make it to the gates of the University, Jax turned them away, calling them unworthy of the great legacy of magic. The Wanderers revolted, declaring magic a right of all in Malina. Jax gave a speech under the painted window in the great library. He told them magic was meant for greater things than to ease the tilling of fields, and as long as they allowed magic to remain common, none would ever grow to reach his full potential. Magic was not meant to serve Malina, but to rule it. He showed the Wanderers magic like they had never witnessed before.”
“And the Wanderers believed him,” Bertrand said darkly.
“But how?” Maggie asked. “If it was going against everything they believed in?”
“You would be amazed the insanity one impassioned speaker can turn a reasonable crowd toward,” Bertrand said. “But Jax didn’t convince them all?”
Tammond shook his head. “Of the four-hundred wanderers, more than sixty left the university that night, determined to strike out on their own and teach all who wished to learn.”
“Only sixty?” Maggie asked, her stomach sinking even further into that terrible sick feeling.
“A powerful man is hard to disbelieve, Miss Trent.”
“The sixty organized and began teaching,” Tammond continued, “always traveling in pairs now, recruiting new teachers whenever they could. Some expected Jax to make them all disappear as he had with the others who had gone against his wishes. But this time he worked through lies, telling the common folk the Wanderers were dangerous. That they were spreading falsehoods and teaching magic too perilous to be used. He said the Wanderers were gypsies, stealing from the people they pretended to help. Making children who showed the potential to be greater than them disappear in the night.”
“Did people believe him?” Maggie asked.
>
“Some, but the Wanderers pushed on. Their duty was to teach, and they were determined to fulfill their promise to the people of Malina.”
“Whether the people were grateful for it or not.” Bertrand’s voice was filled with an angry knowing.
“For three years the Wanderers taught, fighting to regain the people’s trust. Gaining new members whenever they could. I think that’s when Jax realized he wasn’t going to be able to make them quietly disappear. He had been building his strength at the University. Demanding to be called Master―” Tammond said the word with disgust “―by all who studied under him. Giving the title of Enlightened to his followers. The Wanderers knew the Enlightened were strong and held no love for them, but no one thought they would attack. Magic being used in war was not a thing ever seen in Malina. Magic is a gift to be treasured, not abused for the terrible purpose of pain and death.”
“If only more thought like you,” Bertrand said.
“So they attacked and then what?” Maggie asked, wanting the story to be over as quickly as possible. Not because she didn’t want to hear, but because the pain of it beat unbearably in her chest.
“The first attack came in the night during the summer meet,” Tammond said. A chill swept through the room as though the night wind knew well the horror of which Tammond spoke. “They came in quietly, hoping to kill everyone without a fight. Maybe they had hoped the people wouldn’t notice all the Wanderers were gone. But Jax had underestimated our numbers. A fight broke out, and most of the Wanderers managed to escape. Word of the attack brought more supporters to the Wanderers as people began to see Jax for the monster he was. They fought and fought. Innocent people were killed. Marcum, the leader of the Wanderers, didn’t want any more innocent blood spilled. So he led Jax’s army here to the Broken Lake for the final battle. Jax brought everyone he had from the University who could fight. Hundreds of his men came through the water to join the battle, with Jax Cayde himself at the helm.”
Maggie pictured a man riding a wave of fire, power crackling at his fingertips as he shouted deadly curses into the night.
“It was too much,” Tammond said, grief filling his voice for the first time. “Jax slaughtered the Wanderers. He left the lake glowing red with blood.”
“I’m so sorry,” Maggie murmured at the same time Bertrand said, “But then how did you end up here?”
“Twelve of the wounded managed to hide in the woods. Weak and beaten, they decided to stay here. They built their homes on rafts so they could move throughout the Broken Lake, finding new places to hide.” Tammond smiled sadly. “But some were determined to find them. Family members who refused to believe those who they loved had been lost. Even if the ones they loved hadn’t survived, when they saw what Abeyla had built here, away from Jax, they stayed. Some who wanted to learn from the fabled battle came. They stayed. Children were born, and our home was made.”
“And no one who wanted to hurt you ever found you?” Bertrand asked.
“A few who couldn’t be trusted have found their way through the maze to us.”
“What did you do with them?” Maggie wondered how many others had been tied up in the little cabin.
“If they were confused or lost and meant us no harm, we pulled all memories of the lake from their minds and moved them to the other side of the mountain. If they were Enlightened, we took them far away and killed them.”
Maggie swallowed. “Good thing we aren’t Enlightened.”
“Very good.” Tammond turned his bright blue eyes to meet Maggie’s, and for the second time, she forgot how to breathe.
“But why do you think Jax is coming now?” Bertrand asked. “You all seem to believe his invasion is imminent.”
“Over the past few years―” Maggie looked toward the sound of Abeyla’s voice. As Abeyla approached the table, everyone she passed bowed their heads. Maggie hadn’t noticed until then how many people were listening to Tammond speak.
“We’ve been sending Wanderers back out to teach.” Abeyla raised a hand before Maggie could even begin to ask a question. “We are meant to be teachers. What is the point in training a new generation if the knowledge never leaves these waters? It is our purpose, and the longer we hide here and do nothing, the stronger Jax Cayde’s hold on Malina becomes.”
“And he’s found out you are once again trying to educate the masses?” Bertrand asked.
“He captured two of our Wanderers,” Abeyla said. “They were good people. But under Jax’s torture, most would break in time.”
“And our friends in the world have told us Jax is preparing the Enlightened. He’s stopped teaching them normal magic. He now only teaches them to fight.”
“So Jax finds out his old enemies have been prospering hidden safely out of sight, and he decides it’s time to come looking for you,” Bertrand said.
“And to bring an army,” Maggie added.
“Precisely,” Tammond said.
“We don’t know when Jax is coming,” Abeyla said, “but we do know he has left the University with three hundred men and disappeared into the wild. There would be no reason for him to travel in the shadows unless he was coming for us.”
“Then you should leave the lake,” Maggie said. “Go somewhere he can’t find you.”
“If Jax can find us here,” Tammond said softly, “there is nowhere in Malina he won’t follow us. We move the village to many secret places in the lake. Even the people he captured wouldn’t be able to tell him where in the maze to find us. So we keep moving and hope he doesn’t catch up.”
“And when he does?” Bertrand asked.
Maggie didn’t miss the when.
“We fight,” Abeyla said without a hint of fear in her voice. “He may be strong, but we are much stronger than the first time we met. He will be fighting on our waters. We may win.”
“But what about the kids?” Maggie asked. “All the little kids. Where are they going to go?”
“There is a place for them to hide,” Abeyla said. “A place where Jax will not follow them.”
“Then why can’t you all go hide there?” Maggie asked. “Why fight at all? Why not go to The Siren’s Realm or the Land Beneath or whatever you want to call it?”
“Miss Trent,” Bertrand said gently. “That battle you were taken from, when the Siren pulled you away. Would you have left your friends to fight without you if you had been given a choice?”
A cold fist closed around Maggie’s heart. “No. No, I wouldn’t.”
“And would your friends have abandoned their cause to run away and leave their world a worse place without them to defend it?”
“Never.”
“Then you cannot ask the Wanderers to run,” Bertrand said so softly the bystanders a few feet from their table wouldn’t be able to hear. “We are new to this world. Their war is just a story by firelight to us, but to them it is the truth they breathe. This is the world that gave them life. You cannot ask them to leave it to a man like Jax Cayde.”
“I’m glad to know some truths hold fast even outside our land,” Abeyla said.
“Some truths remain in every world I have seen.” Bertrand bowed. “Abeyla, I will not persuade you to give up your fight; the spreading of knowledge is a worthy cause. I understand you wish for us to leave in the morning, and I respect your decision. But I have fought in many battles against many foes. Perhaps I can give you some assistance. If in no other way than giving advice before I leave. It seems to me the Wanderers have been a people of peace. There may be holes in the safety of your village you have not found.”
Abeyla considered him for a moment. The flickering of the fire cast shadows into the gentle lines of her face, making her look twice her age. “I would be a fool to turn down help. When you’re ready.”
“Now is the perfect time.” Bertrand stood. “There is never time to waste when battle is at your heels.” Bertrand looked at Maggie. “Stay here, try not to get hurt, and if battle does come, do remember not to use any magic here that
might get you killed.”
“Right.” Maggie nodded, not sure if she should feel grateful for Bertrand’s concern or punch him in the face for thinking she couldn’t take care of herself.
“Don’t worry,” Tammond said, “I will make sure Maggie comes to no harm.”
“Brilliant,” Bertrand said dryly before following Abeyla out of the Fireside and into the night.
aggie sat at the table, not sure where to look. If she looked at Tammond, she might drool. If she looked at the people around her staring at her, she might run. So instead she looked at the books lining the walls.
“How did they all get here?” Maggie asked, pointing to the shelves upon shelves of books.
“We brought them here,” the girl with the red hair from outside said as though Maggie didn’t understand that things could be carried.
“The first Wanderers who came to the lake brought their books with them,” Tammond said after glaring at the girl with the red hair who huffed and stalked away. “Others who came to join brought more. A few times we’ve sent people out to find more books, ones that were necessary to learn. All of the books we have in the village reside in this room.”
“But,” Maggie said, hoping her words wouldn’t offend, “wouldn’t it be safer not to keep all your written knowledge next to a giant fire?”
Sniggers floated around the crowd.
“The Fireside is safe.” Tammond took Maggie’s hand in his and led her toward the fire. Heat rushed to her face, and she hoped the warmth of the flames would be a good enough excuse for the redness creeping onto her cheeks.
Placing his palm on the back of Maggie’s hand, Tammond moved her fingers toward the flames. Fear told her she would be burned, but Tammond was standing so close behind her, his steady heart beat thrumming into her back. A foot before her hand reached the flames, her palm touched something soft and cool.
The Girl Without Magic Page 11
