Soul of Magic: Book 1 of the Chronomancer Series

by Mark August

  “Are you ready to head back out, Sholeh?”

  “Anywhere but here.”

  Kincaid gave her a half smile and pulled a stream of magic. The force lunged for his soul and filled his pounding heart with power. His senses expanded throughout the building as he worked his way back down the corridor. He’d be able to take on a squad with ease, but he’d have to defend them both. He gestured for Sholeh to come close to him. The pair walked out into the fall sunlight.

  The destruction of the manor house took Sholeh’s breath away. Kincaid could hear and feel her surprise as if it was his own. Her feet stumbled as her eyes wandered across the destruction two dueling wizards brought to this city. He kept her close even as he sensed no resistance to his departure. None chose to take on the magi who destroyed sorceratti and city blocks.

  Sholeh and Kincaid walked away from the destruction and moved deeper into the city.

  Seventy-Nine

  Attius - All is Not Lost

  Attius formed up with the remains of his personal bodyguard. The group had the thousand-yard stare of men and women with time in combat. And these were the ones who weren’t wounded.

  They marched out a servant's door as the masons needed days to clear the rubble. Attius couldn’t turn back and look at the remains of his foundation of power. His mind fought with the reality of the situation—the destruction was of his own doing. Two of his children would be laid in the family crypt by the end of the week. His sorceratti was dead after losing a wizard battle, and his elite guard was gone. Some bodies would never be recovered as there wasn’t anything to find.

  The surrounding blocks looked like siege survivors. Houses and shops lost entire floors, families were gone, and fires still smoldered at night with the glow of embers. A few families and workers used shovels and wheelbarrows to pick through the remains of their lives. Attius felt the same.

  He needed to be away from his own pain and show the people of his islands that they could recover from this. They could start again.

  The wizard, Kincaid, was always on the edge of his thoughts. The young man destroyed Attius’ political career and sank his personal power within the city. The carpenter killed the Atros heir and youngest child.

  The scowl on his face forced nearby workers to scramble way, and Attius regained control of his demeanor. The nobleman looked around at the damage and shook his head. He’d need money to help rebuild, and he thought about the price he already paid.

  The guards stayed respectfully behind, but they were alert for danger. Attius wished he could dismiss them, but the circumstances wouldn’t allow him to travel alone. He marveled at the destruction wrought throughout the city. The power of magic had a destructive force that exceeded anything the rulers understood. Attius wondered if armies had become obsolete with the arcane firepower demonstration.

  The city square was bustling with tents and activity. Field hospitals were the busiest as they tended to the broken bodies. Other areas were set up as shelters and kitchens for those affected by the damage. Humanity fought back from the brink. Despite the losses inflicted today, the city itself would continue.

  He gestured for his bodyguard to take up a post near the entrance to the city hall. As the heavy doors swung out, lamps flickered from the rush of air. His footsteps rang against the cut stone. He dared not think of the tapestries that would be crafted memorializing his latest defeat.

  Two guards stood at attention for the approach. Neither wore the mask of an executioner. That was a good start. After a quick salute, they pulled open the inner doors. Still a member of the City Council.

  He didn’t have to break his stride as he moved into the main room. The other ruling families were already there. The conversation faded away as he entered, and he wondered if he should take his seat at the table. Attius kept moving forward and didn’t stop in front of the long table. No one stopped him as he took his seat at the end.

  “Lord Atros, please accept our condolences at your losses,” the Duchess said.

  “Thank you and the members of this esteemed council for your thoughts. No parent should have to bury their children. Our crypt will claim two of mine. I know you must do the same.”

  “Have you determined what happened?” Lady Zonara asked.

  “I was there for the beginning of the battle. The wizard Kincaid came to take his revenge on my family and my house.” To his own ears, Attius found his voice flat. He wanted to bring back his tone of command and inspire respect. But his heart ached.

  “A wizard did all of this damage?” Lord Gordio said.

  “Not one, but two wizards. My sorceratti and the wizard fought to the death.”

  “Wizards destroyed blocks of a city? I find that hard—” Taurus still couldn’t believe.

  “Did you see ships sail in range? Siege engines? Or are we ignoring what each household has under their control?” He dismissed the man’s argument with a wave of his hand. He didn’t care if they believed him. They could walk through the city and witness the destruction.

  The council fell silent. They kept their eyes downcast and avoided contact with Attius. The shuffling of feet and the nervousness of hands moving around was the only break in the silence.

  “Lord Atros, where do you think the wizard went?” the Duchess was the first to ask the question they all needed to answer.

  “I don’t think he stayed here in the city. As the fighting quieted, ships and vessels fled the docks and piers.”

  “And the girl?”

  “No sign. My guards report that the wizard took her from the prison and made their way out into the city. Our leverage is gone.”

  “But Lord Atros, we don’t need leverage if the threat has left the city,” the Duchess said. Attius watched her brow wrinkle in confusion, but her open eyes were genuine. She didn’t understand what he was after.

  “The honor of the city—”

  “No, Lord Atros. Your honor,” Lady Enna said. “This war against your wizard is a conflict you brought upon yourself and your house—”

  “How dare you—”

  “I didn’t dare the fates, and I didn’t try to cage a wizard, Atros. Leverage or not.” Unlike the others, she didn’t drop her gaze. She held her accusing glance.

  Attius’ hands twitched to where he wished he carried his pistol. One shot at this range would be enough. He unclenched his jaw and released his hands while he maintained his posture.

  “The threat to the city may be more distant, but this is a threat the Council must consider. An unknown immigrant made his way to our shores and became a wizard with enough destructive power to destroy a city block.”

  “Convenient, Attius.” Enna wasn’t going to let this go. She had too much to gain from his loss.

  “That’s enough from the two of you,” the Duchess said. “The question the Council must answer is where do we go from here?”

  The members paused as the next few steps could commit the council to actions none of them were ready to take. The scars from their last decision crippled three houses and would take months to repair. Eyes shifted around the room, papers shuffled in distracted hands, and feet traced lines on the stone floor.

  No bold strokes today. Attius decided to take a softer stance.

  “The city needs to be rebuilt first. Houses are damaged and destroyed, and shops need to be recovered.”

  The entire council let out a breath. War seemed to be averted. Attius’ training favored patience and deliberate planning. Strategy took time to achieve results. His peers were averse to risk and favored methodical gains.

  He’d get his opportunity to go after this wizard. Attius needed enough time to maneuver the group into the position he wanted. Their strength reached across the mainland, and they held agents across the realms. To make his plan work, he needed the help of the Council. Once, he only needed their support, but the funds required to put his house back in order was beyond his means. He’d pay for it, but he was investing for his future.

  Zonara watched h
im lean back in his chair and tilt his head. Her voice was a quiet one. “Second.”

  The rest of the Council session moved on to areas of bureaucracy, administration, and diplomacy. Attius didn’t expend the mental resources to consider what the rest of the council would do. He would negotiate the terms of finance with several of them. But the debt would bind them together for his goals.

  Money would be the catalyst for new growth. His recovery would inspire a new phase in the city’s diplomacy, and Attius’ mind considered the changes necessary for city laws. Magic would feature prominently.

  He just needed time to get his way.

  Eighty

  Kincaid - Ships

  Kincaid took Sholeh’s hand into his own. The warmth radiated up his arm and into his heart. The city's destruction was behind them, but the smells of the battle tainted his ruined clothes. His eyes focused on the distance, and he never turned back toward the image of destruction.

  They huddled on the deck of a slow-moving ship with dozens of refugees. He and Sholeh looked like the rest, and the sailors took pity on their plight.

  Sholeh’s strength was now shared between them. Walking away from the city that had taken them in and brought them to a level of training and wealth was not an easy task for either of them. No one checked the outbound flow of humanity as the shock of the morning rippled across the city.

  “Where are we going?” Sholeh’s whisper snapped Kincaid from his introspection.

  “Away from the city and the reach of the City Council. Far away from Atros.”

  “That is what we are leaving. But where are we going?”

  Kincaid’s eyes turned back to the mainland with its green fields and rolling hills. Years ago, they both stood on those shores and looked with wonder at the bell towers and glowing wealth reflected off gilded roofs. They wouldn’t go back.

  “I wish I knew.”

  “With that thoughtful look on your face, I think you decided where we will go next. I wish you would share it with me.” Her body leaned in close to his, and her warmth pushed back the cold afternoon breeze near the water.

  “Before Cormac died, he mentioned schools in the Empire.”

  Her head shot up and looked him in the eyes. She pulled away slightly from his grasp and faced him.

  “By all that is holy, why the Empire?’

  “I’m out of ideas. Do you know any cities that formally study magic?” He tried to keep his voice down and looked at the people ahead and behind him in line. He knew that this type of talk would get the guards to notice them, and he didn’t want to be tossed to the seas.

  Sholeh leaned back in after a few moments, “I do not have any other ideas.”

  He’d always be different now. Magic nudged against his mind with a gentle touch. Just beyond his reach was the explosive power of magic. He kept his iron wall up to keep the temptation at bay. A school was necessary to learn more.

  The sturdy vessel rocked in the shallow waves of the bay. The crew moved with energy to make the passage away from the wounded city. Kincaid and Sholeh began to relax with extra distance from the smoldering ruins and pillars of smoke.

  They’d make a return trip and try to make way before sunset claimed the last light. None wanted a night docked at the city. The money would be good for the Porter’s Guild and the independent captains. They’d risk much for a few extra coins.

  Kincaid and Sholeh nudged their way to the bow of the ship and watched the water rush by. Sails snapped in the wind. The breeze against their face hid the odors from the fight. The travel promised a fresh start.

  Kincaid pulled Sholeh close to him. The captain steered the ship to the closest pier. By the next morning, Kincaid knew they would start toward the Empire of a Thousand Spears. He had to find his place in history.

  Thank you

  Reviews are the soul of an author’s magic. If you enjoyed Kincaid and Sholeh’s adventure in Caesea, please leave a review!

  If you want to read more about the world of the Chronomancer, please visit my website at readmarkaugust.com and sign up for my mailing list. The free book for joining introduces Adelaise the Red and Sigurd, thief and warrior, new additions to Kincaid’s adventures starting in Schools of Magic.

  Keep reading for Chapter 1 of Schools of Magic!

  Schools of Magic

  One

  Kincaid - Consequences

  Fight or starve.

  Kincaid wiped blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. The smear ran up to his sleeve, and the grime tasted like dirt and iron. His left fist clutched the ground for balance; he was no longer an apprentice carpenter.

  He brought his fists in front of his face and stared up at the giant in the ring. The shirtless man was twice his height. A wide chest rippled with strength as he clapped his palms together. An empty mouth of shattered teeth grinned. He gestured for Kincaid to launch the next attack.

  The crowd gathered in the old warehouse erupted with the display of sportsmanship. They were getting their money’s worth in this David versus Goliath competition. The fighter was a favorite of the town and defeated everyone on the coast of Caesea. Kincaid played those odds.

  Fight or starve. He needed to win.

  Kincaid nodded his appreciation for the showmanship, which allowed him to steady his balance. The man’s blows were lightning fast for his size, and he hit like a horse’s hoof. Another blow like that and Kincaid would be out.

  Unwilling to take more risk, Kincaid opened his heart, mind, and soul to the forces of magic. He summoned a trickle of power into his soul, and his senses exploded around him. He filtered the noises and the faces of the crowd and focused on his opponent.

  The giant wasn’t breathing hard, and the first droplet of sweat formed on his brow. His heart thumped in anticipation, not fatigue. Kincaid wouldn't wear this man down. Where did he get this endurance?

  Pain disappeared with the magic pounding in his veins. The arcane power was music longing to rise from a soft beat to a crescendo. Magic pushed against his restraint and hungered for explosive release.

  Kincaid struggled for control with the arcane might at his command for less than a heartbeat, and the young man heard the giant’s boots creak. Sportsman or not, he wasn’t waiting. The courtesy of the fight was over, and the giant would finish the contest with a flourish. Spectators expected their winnings.

  The man was a trained fighter. As he closed into range, he balanced his weight forward on his feet, and his arms covered his face and upper chest. His entire body bobbed to the sides to get Kincaid to commit in a direction.

  The best the carpenter could do was stay out of reach.

  Tired of the retreating target, the giant surged forward. He led with a left jab with the length of a lance. Kincaid heard the muscles tense and explode outward. The small fighter pulled his body to the right and around the powerful punch.

  Kincaid threw his right fist and contacted the man’s ribs with the thud of bone against muscle. The crowd hushed as the impact forced a grunt from the giant.

  Before the first punch registered, Kincaid leveraged his surprise and landed a left straight in the giant’s gut. The blow cracked the tension, and the crowd exploded with cheers. Money clanked and changed hands. The favorite backed up and rubbed his chest. Kincaid’s blows were impossibly strong. The fighter's eyes were wide with confusion. Kincaid wouldn’t share the secret of his powerful strikes.

  Fight or starve.

  Kincaid’s visions of victory distracted him from the moment, and the giant showed no quarter in this ring. Kincaid wasn’t paying attention as the blow smashed his forehead. His vision exploded with stars, and his legs turned to mush from the impact. His mind screamed to watch for the next inbound strike to his face even as his body refused to obey the command.

  The surge of magic saved his life as he knocked aside the jab with his forearm. Disbelief registered on the giant’s face.

  Recovering from the punishment but only looking through one unswollen eye, Kincaid laun
ched his counterblow. His right fist impacted the man’s chin. Kincaid felt the stubble of the man’s beard on his knuckles as the giant rocked back on his heels.

  The young man hammered blows to the body. Thud followed crack as the fists hit like a smith’s hammer. Even the iron body of the giant surrendered to the blows, bending, twisting, and losing strength. The favorite never threw another punch.

  The magic coursing through Kincaid’s being howled in delight. Warmth of the torches and oil lamps beckoned for Kincaid’s senses. A blast of arcane energy could melt down any opponent standing in front of him.

  Start your conquest. Finish this fight. Make yourself king.

  The voice pounded in his skull with each beat of his heart. It had been silent since his duel with Vedette Atros, daughter of the ruling house of Caesea. Their battle led to the destruction beyond their wildest imagination. City blocks buried; lives destroyed.

  He couldn’t do that now, not here. He thrust those thoughts aside.

  Two more blows powered by his seething anger finished the bout. The giant dropped his arms on the last blow and collapsed backwards like a felled tree. Dirt bounced as his body hit the ground. He wouldn’t rise again tonight.

  Kincaid struggled with the flow of magic as he turned to the crowd. Faces leered with joy and some growled with hatred. Silver coins passed between gamblers as the carpenter stood alone in the eerie silence of the ring. The fight organizers came forward to the inexperienced fighter, and neither had a pleasant look on their face.

  “Cheater.”

  Kincaid shook his head as he fought to get his breath back.

  “No way you could beat Granite at your size.”

  The man was from one of the Northern States with his light skin and blue eyes. He was middle-aged, soft, and in control of the fighting venture. Right to where the upset changed everything. He fumed.