Soul of Magic: Book 1 of the Chronomancer Series

by Mark August

  A magical blade of purest blue energy spun over the squad's heads and plunged into the commanding officer. The energy crackled as it tore through armor, clothing, and flesh. The two halves of the body splattered to the floor.

  “Now, who is in charge here?”

  The rigid, ready stance faltered. Weapons rattled as the soldiers glanced at each other.

  “If you make me choose the next leader, I will also kill one of you at random. Nine left.”

  Weapons left the ready position and pointed toward the ceiling. Discipline broke as they stared at death. One man kneeling at the front stood up and straightened his tunic.

  “I am now in charge. I’m the corporal of this squad.”

  “Corporal. I want you to look at the body of your sergeant. Now consider your next decision.”

  The ranks parted as the corporal looked back at the severed body. To emphasize his point, Kincaid allowed his hands to smolder and glow with an inner fire.

  The corporal took command of the squad. “Squad, lay down your arms and form up on me.”

  Weapons banged off the flagstones, and weapon belts clanked as they slipped from the soldiers’ waists. The unit regained their discipline as they reformed into two columns.

  “Corporal, I will give you three minutes to leave the prison floor. In this time, I expect you to give the archers on the roof warning to not fire on us. If they do, I will kill them all and half of your squad. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “I’m not a noble. Just an immigrant carpenter trying to set things right.”

  With an about-face movement, the squad followed their new leader out of the prison floor.

  Sholeh slipped her hammers back into the leather loops on her broad belt. After securing her makeshift weapons, she put a hand on Kincaid’s back.

  “I do not think you will ever just be a carpenter again, my friend.”

  “I never knew how much I wanted it.”

  The gloom blanketed Kincaid’s emotions until Sholeh broke the silence again.

  “Do you think the corporal will comply with your command?”

  Kincaid turned toward his friend. “I made a threat. I’ll deliver.”

  Sholeh nodded but didn’t resist his threat of violence. Kincaid went back to his sister’s body as Sholeh followed him. He crouched over the body, released from pain and imprisonment.

  Smells of burned flesh from the magical blade brought tears back to Kincaid’s eyes. He wanted to grieve, but the three minutes for the guard was running out.

  “I don’t want to leave her here. Not like this.”

  “I know, Kincaid. But if we take her with us, we cannot get her to the mainland. We will be a target for every house.”

  “Breaks my heart.”

  “Live as she wanted you to live. Nothing is holding you in this city.”

  “There is, Sholeh. Revenge.”

  Sixty-Six

  Vedette - War Plans

  Magic resonated, and her soul rejoiced. The servants would bring the call to arms soon.

  Vedette felt the clash of wills and the power of magic. Men and women would die in the arcane battle, but the conflict was too far away to sense who would win. Two sorceratti should be enough.

  The flow of power surged and ebbed. She’d clashed with another wizard, but she was a combatant in that battle for her life. Magic served her needs and allowed her to defend herself. The distant fight felt different with the channels of power in attack and defense.

  The two sorceratti in the prison were not accidental placements. Vedette knew the carpenter would make a try at the debtor’s prison, and the house sorceratti stationed there created a win-win scenario for House Atros. If the nobles won, the leadership of House Atros would earn respect again. If the sorceratti lost, it would cripple the houses. Not just any houses. Ortner and Julius. Silvia and Enna would come back into line.

  Although the negotiations were tenuous, she prevailed in assigning the sorceratti for specific locations. Her father approved the plan and complimented her forethought.

  Vedette longed to feel her power deep inside her soul. The houses could maneuver their forces across the islands and even through the realms, but magic could unbalance them all. This carpenter thrust the issue into the light.

  If one wizard could cause this much damage, the city must adapt to the changes in power calculations.

  Urgent pounding on her door broke her dark thoughts. Vedette dressed in simple clothes and was ready for the summons. She looked toward the open window and longed for the escape to the city market and breakfast by the docks. A laugh with Giomar over a shared pomegranate would restore youth to her aching soul.

  The servant waited impatiently at the entrance. A reminder her duty called.

  “Please inform my father I’m on my way.”

  As the servant ran off to deliver her message, Vedette looked one last time in the mirror to check off her clothes. The woman looking back at her from the depths of the ornate mirror was a middle-aged version of herself. Her eyes hung with fatigue, gray hair predominated across her head, and wrinkles covered her face and hands. Gold thread wrapped through her ponytail was the only sign of nobility, and she straightened the simple dress in her family colors.

  The Great Hall wouldn’t do for the Atros war council. Her father would gather his closest advisers, senior artisans on the island, and immediate family to plot their course of action. The Great Hall allowed people to fade into the background and not engage in the issues. The small hall on the fifth floor with the family quarters was an intimate gathering with few chairs. Maps of the city and mainland covered the walls, and an elaborate map of the city streets and canals covered the center table.

  Voices rose over each other in a crescendo of frightened ideas. Panic seeped into the room and gripped the hearts of the leadership of Atros. The message to the young sorceratti was none could control the force they unleashed.

  Vedette stepped into the room and avoided the lower-ranking masters of different crafts. The air hung with sweat. Servants tried to slide through the pockets of people to deliver goblets of wine. Spills made each step stick to the stone floor. A haze drifted through the room as pipes puffed.

  “Father, we need to reach out to the other houses and put together our response,” Giomar, heir to the house, said.

  “We’ve already failed with a combined house effort. We—” Armand added. He was more animated than Vedette had seen him act before. As the House shifted to war, as the second child, he’d assume the responsibilities of the leader of the house as Giomar commanded their forces.

  “You think we should just give in?” Lissandra said. She wouldn’t stand for a lowered place in the order of power. Vedette hoped she understood the cost.

  “No one is talking about surrender. We are here to discuss our plans and options,” their mother interjected.

  Her father stood as a beacon of strength through the chaos of ideas and the undercurrent of fear. Attius looked toward his daughter, his sorceratti. At least his smile was genuine. As he cleared his throat, voices trailed off, and eyes turned toward their leader.

  “We face a serious threat. Two sorceratti are dead. Guards can’t stand up to the power of his sorcery. And our leverage is gone. All dangerous tidings for our House.” He didn’t sound like a man grasping for control. In the darkest times, people looked to leaders to provide calm in the storm of their souls. Her father was born for moments like these.

  With the skill of a practiced actor, he let his words hang in the air. Frowns didn’t appear from his words, and none looked away from the man standing near the map. Throughout the city’s history, the Houses faced internal struggles, wars with other nations, and grasps of power from the other houses. This situation could be another opportunity.

  “You’ve thought this through,” Livia prompted.

  Attius smiled at his wife. “We will pull back our forces. The City Council will continue to deliberate over responses. I
know there’s nothing more dangerous than a cornered animal.”

  “This animal is also wounded, father. We attacked his family.” Vedette said. The members of the house looked toward the youngest with surprise.

  “True, sorceratti. We want to avoid further provocation. If the carpenter gets on a ship to leave the city, we let him—”

  “But the honor of our house—” Lissandra said.

  “Isn’t in question,” Giomar said. “The bodies of the city guard and two house sorceratti is enough to show the threat is greater than any house. The City Council will be panicked.”

  “Yes, now is the time for us to look beyond the crisis to build the victory we desire. We want the City Council to come to us for advice and aid. We need to reassure the people we can protect them—”

  “Father, you can’t. Magi Cormac is dead. The sorceratti aren’t enough, and guards can’t stop him.” Vedette’s voice commanded the gathering’s attention.

  “That’s a grim assessment, Vedette.”

  “A factual one.”

  The shuffling of feet and the swishing of fidgeting arms were the only sounds in the awkward silence. Her father waited for her to continue.

  “We need to find him. Constant pressure by a relentless search will tire him until he makes a mistake. But I can’t find him if he isn’t using magic.”

  “You can’t use your power to divine his location?” Armand asked. His words didn’t hold scorn, and his face didn’t challenge her statement. He genuinely didn’t know.

  “Remember, he was in the city for years before we knew about his presence. No one knew.”

  Her father placed his palms on the table and hung his head for a moment. As he raised his head, he looked at each member of his inner circle.

  “Do we hunt, or do we draw back?”

  Even the members of the family stayed silent. Attius pulled himself back up to his height and pulled his shoulders back.

  “I need your input. We called this session to decide how to face this threat against the House of Atros.”

  “Father, I agree with the sorceratti. We need to press our search and force him to act. If he flees, we use our resources to hunt him down on the mainland. If he stays, we gather our power and crush him.” Giomar said.

  “We will issue firearms to the patrols and coordinate with the city guard,” the captain of the guard said.

  Vedette scrunched her nose. Firearms would not be the solution. She doubted even a fixed cannon would stop this wizard.

  “An extensive search and uncertainty in the merchants’ quarter has a monetary impact, my lord. It will affect house finances,” the minister for finance said. He was the perfect money counter. If we lose this battle, finances wouldn’t matter.

  “Lord Attius, we need to take action and lead. Waiting for others to take the initiative is not our way, and the costs will be lower if we resolve this challenge as soon as possible,” her mother said.

  “And you, sorceratti? What do you say?”

  Vedette wondered if they included in their calculations who would fight this young wizard. Every option revolved around the unstated fact that she would duel another wizard. She found her voice.

  “This fight is unlike any this House has faced. We don’t understand this threat's nature, and the City Council's support for any action is uncertain. We know we will bear the price.”

  Her words fixated the entire room. Vedette realized this was the same way they looked at her father.

  Her father gave her a slight nod of respect, and the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile. Her cheeks warmed as her face flushed. Courage thundered in her heart.

  Her mother mirrored her father’s pride. Vedette’s moment was now, and the War Council waited for her next words.

  “We must take the leadership role in finding this wizard. Force him to flee or make a mistake. He needs to be pressed at every turn to make each meal a dangerous activity. No night should be restful. We need to lead the City Council.”

  The War Council nodded in approval.

  “And when we strike, it must be decisive. He won’t give us a second chance.”

  Sixty-Seven

  Vedette - Promises

  “Vedette, wait.”

  Vedette faced Giomar as he slid between the departing War Council members. She tried to read the emotion on his face, but he hid his intentions.

  “Do you think we can take on this wizard?”

  “The Council agreed to the plan.”

  “I also know there is more you didn’t say.”

  The Council didn’t discuss the role the sorceratti would play in the confrontation with their rogue wizard. But her brother calculated the cost.

  “I’ve felt his power. I don’t know if I can win.”

  He reached out and held her arms. His brown eyes mirrored the depth of his concern. Somehow, her brother sensed her uncertainty in her role and tried to feed her the courage she needed.

  “The House is mobilizing for war, and the city will not be far behind. Nations of the realm tremble at this gathering of power.”

  “Yes, but we know how to wage war against houses and nations. This is a wizard.”

  “I think you’re giving him too much credit.”

  “We’ve underestimated this man. He also spent time alone with Magi Cormac, the trainer of sorceratti for decades.”

  “We should keep walking away from here.” He glanced at the departing members of the war council and avoided the servants rushing in to clean up the room. “Courtyard?”

  Time outside in the garden was a needed change from the hazy rooms and passionate deliberations. They wouldn’t leave the compound, but the botanical gardens painstakingly cared for by their gardeners was the change of environment she needed. Vedette slipped her hand in her brother’s curled arm and matched his stroll to the first courtyard.

  Once a place of refuge from the everyday pressures, the gardens were usually home to servants and nobles. Today, they carried the scars of a military encampment. Guards patrolled the rooftops, stood watch at the gates, and observed those traveling within the courtyards. The contrast with the marble fountains, hand-crafted benches, and foreign flowers was stark. Vedette and her brother retreated to a quiet corner.

  “The story of this wizard worries me, Giomar. Father’s plan to keep him in prison with Magi Cormac puts us at a disadvantage. This immigrant shows up in our city and works as an apprentice until he reveals himself as a powerful wizard. We’re missing something.”

  “Dad never shares his information. His plans are in motion before he tells us what he’s trying to do. We’ll have to use our wealth of resources to get some information on our opponent.”

  “What do you think we could learn?”

  “I’m hoping for a weakness. Or maybe a battlefield where we can neutralize his advantages. We can’t keep giving this wizard the initiative.”

  Vedette brushed her fingers along the stem of a deep red flower. Probably the last bloom before the cold snap of fall finished the last flowers in the garden. Her brother waited for her thoughts to return.

  “He gets to make his own plans. We keep thinking he will play into ours.”

  “That’s the point. We keep pressure on him until he makes a mistake. When he does, we will make him pay for it.”

  Vedette turned back from the flower and felt the warmth of her brother’s body at her side. Too often, the Atros children focused on their training and preparation for nobility. They lost the familiar touch and sibling rivalry too early. The role of a sorceratti removed her from her family earlier than most. At least Giomar always attempted to stay close.

  “Will father be able to get the Council’s support?” Vedette asked.

  “The dead sorceratti should shock them into action.”

  “I’m not as confident the leadership will turn back to us.”

  “Dad is counting on his alliance to accept the situation was under control with him as the Duke. When the Duchess manipulated the events,
the wizard broke free and killed the family sorceratti. Including the Duchess’ own. That will be enough.”

  “She’ll manipulate the Council for her own revenge.”

  “The Duchess? She’ll be the scapegoat, and she knows it. I bet she volunteers to let Atros lead the defense to make sure we get the blame.”

  “Then our house gets the spoils of war.”

  “Yes, I wish I could see those rewards. A single man is attacking the foundation of the city. Winning isn’t for some amazing outcome. We’re fighting for the status quo, before we lose it forever.”

  Vedette imagined the struggle between the sorceratti in the prison. The arcane battle tipped the houses’ balance of power, and the risks mounted to the survivors. She agreed. The Council would shift power back to her father and grant him emergency powers.”

  “Giomar, I need you to promise me something.”

  “If I can keep it, of course.”

  “Stay away from this wizard. I don’t know if I can keep you safe from him. A company of house guards won’t be enough to stop him.”

  A grin crept across his handsome face, and he slid his hand under hers.

  “I wasn’t expecting to be saved by my little sister.”

  “I’m serious, you goof.”

  “I am, too. But I agree to your terms. If it comes to the end, I’ll do what is necessary to save our house from this wizard.”

  “I promise to do the same. I think I’ll be much closer to the decision.”

  “Then let’s also hope the wizard chooses discretion and leaves the city. We can hunt him down on the mainland and keep the fight off our streets.”

  Sixty-Eight

  Kincaid - Revenge or Justice

  “I do not agree with your plan, Kincaid.”

  “You wouldn’t, Sholeh.”

  “You do not have to do this.”

  “They killed my sister and my master. You want me to let these nobles have their way with every life in the city?”