Wrath, Prequel to Tredan's Bane

by Lita Burke

Tredan forced his fingers open and stared at the Compulsion Charm. Unlike the other cheap charms in the box, this one had intricate scrollwork etched into a sparkling outer casing. It had a heavy golden chain. And potent spells.

  Come to me. Bring the journal.

  He had been cautious and kept his hideous journal safe all these years. How could he have been so susceptible? He was now caught and could not escape. Tredan bowed his head. His world went dark. For a time, all else went away except his despair. If the Enforcer came now, Tredan would surrender and be done with his furtive struggle.

  Time passed.

  His black stupor lifted. Tredan raised his head.

  “I will not hand over the journal. My bane.”

  You will, Tredan.

  “My marriage would be a sham if I gave up the journal now. I would not have Lanith think I used her to hide my secret.”

  You failed long ago when you accepted His Divine’s magic.

  “He tricked me.”

  Enchanters were gullible then. That’s why you fell.

  “The Enchanters trusted the Church then. There’s a difference.” Tredan took a deep breath. “His Divine’s magic forced me to write the journal. I accept what’s happened.”

  You’re resigned. Good.

  “I’ve hidden it well.”

  I’ll find the journal despite your stubbornness.

  Tredan dropped the Compulsion Charm into his pocket. “Stop your blather, Church filth. I have matters to attend to.”

  Tredan left the shop’s office and went into the workroom. He pulled out one of the stools and sat. He had to warn Lanith about the journal and the Enforcer. The problem was His Divine’s original spell forbade Tredan from talking about the journal with any living person.

  If he could not tell the living, then he must enlist the help of the dead.

  Tredan recited a spell to retrieve an object from his MindPlace Store. A velvet bundle dropped into his waiting hands. Inside was a charm he had swapped long ago for one of his best Pleasure Charms. It allowed him to see and talk with ghosts.

  “Invoke Sumernor’mylnburne To My Call.”

  Sumer was a biddable ghost Tredan had worked with before. The ghost walked through the doorway. He wore a Sciomancer’s old-fashioned Church vestments and had empty eyes.

  “Greetings, Sumer. Will you do a task for me?”

  “Perhaps. Explain your wish.”

  “I’d like you to warn the woman who wears these counterparts.” Tredan held up his left hand with his marriage rings.

  “Her name?”

  Tredan was ever cautious when he discussed matters with ghosts. They were available to any Church magician and free to share what they heard. Even Sumer, who was reticent by nature, could be persuaded to give up secrets if coaxed by a talented Sciomancer.

  “I won’t tell you her name. However, I’ll give you enough essence to sense the spells in my marriage rings. You can identify her through them.”

  “What shall I warn her of?”

  What indeed? His Divine’s original magic still sealed Tredan’s lips. “She’ll come home in a few hours. Please speak with her before she arrives. She and I are in trouble. Tell her to be cautious.”

  “Cautious of what?”

  His journal would enslave the Enchanters and surrender their powerful essence to the Church. It would be a disaster to their magical way of life. How could he describe the Enchanters’ peril? “Warn her of danger to Enchanter essence.”

  Tredan clenched his fists. Too vague, but it would have to do.

  “I’m to warn your spouse of peril for you and to Enchanter essence. I will do as you ask.”

  Tredan puffed out a breath. He stretched his hand to the ghost. “You may read my rings now.”

  The ghost’s touch was oh so cold. Tredan forced a blot of essence down his arm, into his hand, then into Sumer. The ghost’s fingers caressed Tredan’s marriage rings and read their spells. The rings responded to his probe with a sparkle and soft chime.

  “I can find the woman who wears your rings’ counterparts.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Your spouse knows Sciomancer magic?”

  “She isn’t a Maji’ker.”

  “She wears a Ghost Charm?”

  “No.”

  “The living people of Sye cannot see nor hear the dead.”

  Defeat clutched his heart. Tredan put his hands over his face. “I’d forgotten, Sumer. I’ve asked you to perform this task for naught. You may go.”

  The ghost left. Lanith would not have a warning to stay away. The Enforcer would hurt her to make Tredan give up the journal. He would have to find another way before she came home.

  Tredan returned to the office. He stored the benign charms from the shipment, fetched magical supplies, and put the shop’s defenses on their highest setting. He went to his rooftop greenhouse. The midsummer morning had turned hot. He was grateful for the shelter of the glass roof and the fresh sea air through the open windows. He cut cloth squares and waited.

  Enchanter Tredan?

  “I’m not an Enchanter nowadays. His Divine saw to that over a decade ago.”

  Why do you deny my summons?

  “You have nothing for me if I relinquish the journal.”

  Untrue. You may have anything you wish.

  “Marvelous. I wish not to give my journal to His Divine and have him enslave the Enchanters.”

  You amuse me.

  “And I tire of you. I’ll return your charm to Priest Eli. You can retrieve it from him at your convenience.”

  I will clarify. His Divine will give you anything after you give me the journal. The Church will even leave you alone, if that’s your wish.

  “You want me to betray the Enchanters? I fear their wrath more than yours. You drive a weak bargain, Seri Enforcer.”

  Come to me. Let’s discuss the details in person. A charm is a poor way to communicate.

  “We have nothing to discuss.”

  The charm went silent. Tredan snipped leaves, took pinches of dirt, and added tiny Essence Storage Charms. He included a spell and wrapped the ingredients in the cloth squares. Tredan tucked the small amulets into his MindPlace Store.

  Tredan? I have a question.

  “Ask.”

  Why do you keep my Compulsion Charm when our conversation displeases you?

  “I enjoy vexing Enforcers.”

  A dangerous pastime. But untrue. My charm appeals to your Enchanter magic.

  Tredan paused. His lips went into a firm line. “I’m not an Enchanter. I told you that already.”

  I enjoy Enchanters’ company. They are tasty. I should warn you that I bite, Tredan. I cannot help myself.

  “That’s disgusting.”

  Your Enchanter magic has faded, but it will never be gone. I know because my charm calls to it.

  “I haven’t created Enchanter essence in years. You’ll be disappointed.”

  I doubt it. I expect you to be tasty, too.

  Tredan broke into a sweat. His unwanted guest would arrive soon.

  Chapter 3